


spilled red wine

by scrapheap_redux



Series: vinegar and other stain removers [1]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Coruscant Guard, Discussion of Abortion, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Jedi Order positive, Minor CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Minor CC-5052 | Bly/Aayla Secura, Nonbinary Character, Not Beta Read, Trans Male Character, thorn is a good brother, trans male clones
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:21:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 24
Words: 73,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26016412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrapheap_redux/pseuds/scrapheap_redux
Summary: When Fox makes a rare trip to the medbay, nobody could have expected the consequences. As the Coruscant Guard struggle to support their Commander, an investigation begins to uncover the rot that has covered Coruscant for far too long.(Or: Fox gets pregnant, and it's the final straw. His brothers won't let him sweep things under the rug any more.)
Series: vinegar and other stain removers [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2168757
Comments: 292
Kudos: 544
Collections: Commander Fox





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> warnings: this does contain an unwanted pregnancy (and an eventual abortion), references to rape/non-con, and general shittiness to clones. the clones are also afab because i dont like mpreg, and while it probably won't come up in explicit detail, I think it's worth noting.
> 
> (please comment if there are any other warnings you'd like me to add)

Fox has been sick for weeks, and it’s getting concerning enough that he knows he’s going to have to go to the medbay soon. Thorn has noticed that Fox has been paler than usual lately, and his needling about Fox’s health has gotten the attention of their vode. It’s quickly begun to wear on Fox’s nerves, especially when Thire catches him puking his guts out in the fresher and takes to hovering around him until Fox snaps and hides in his office.

Still, if there’s one thing on par with Fox’s hatred of flimsiwork, it’s the medbay. Standing outside its doors, he grimaces, already picturing the fuss the medics are going to make. There’s no point trying to avoid it, though, so Fox sighs and walks in. Immediately, the sounds of the hustle and bustle of the medbay vanish, all eyes turning to Fox. He sees several pairs of wide eyes on the various troopers laid up in the bay, which he does _not_ appreciate. It’s not _that_ rare for him to go to the medbay.

“Commander Fox?” One of the newest medics scurries over to Fox. He’s definitely one of the troopers that had been rushed out of Kamino, judging by the roundness to his face, and has a clear mutation - brown hair. It’s not as rare as the blonde of Cody’s pet CT, but worth noting. Fox’s medic doesn’t seem to mind it as much, keeping it in a style reminiscent of Boba’s. “Are you here for a sitrep?”

“No,” he says gruffly, eye twitching at the immediate outburst of whispering that fills the medbay. “I’ve been… sick lately,” he admits reluctantly. The whispers get louder. The medic’s eyes widen and he hurries Fox over to a bed.

“Sick how?” he asks, bustling around the station to grab the scanner. Fox watches, feeling a little bemused despite himself. This particular shiny is still bright-eyed and innocent, like a little tooka. Fitting, considering who their head medic was.

“I’ve been throwing up a lot lately,” Fox starts and the medic - Corks, Fox finally remembers - hurriedly writes it out on a datapad. “I’ve been getting tired more easily and Thorn insists that I’m ‘even paler than usual’,” Fox says with a huff. That startles a laugh out of the shiny.

“Alright, I’ll get some blood and then scan you, sir,” Corks chirps happily, before stabbing Fox with a hypo. Fox hisses, but doesn’t move his arm until the medic is done. Corks puts the blood in some machine before picking the scanner back up. Fox is mature enough not to flinch away from the scanner like he knows some of the vod do, just sits still and waits. Corks’ brows scrunch together and he frowns, looking down at the scanner. “That can’t be right,” the medic mutters, just loud enough for Fox to pick up. Fox’s stomach drops.

“What is it?” he asks, managing to keep his voice even. Corks startles, nearly dropping the scanner.

“Sorry, sir!” he squeaks. “I think I messed something up, I’ll do it over!” Fox waves him on and sits through the second scan just as patiently as the first, despite the anxiety gnawing at his insides. Corks’ look of worry doesn’t abate, though. “I… I think I’m going to get Tooka,” he says weakly, scurrying off before Fox can grab him and demand to know what’s going on.

Fox hisses out a curse under his breath, leg bouncing as he waits for either Corks or Tooka - the CMO - to come back. Tooka practically runs over, skidding to stop at the end of the exam bed Fox is on, Corks hurrying to catch up. Tooka snatches up the scanner, but doesn’t bother with a full scan - instead, they focus on his stomach, going over it with the scanner with unnerving intensity.

“What the kriff…” Tooka says incredulously, eyes laser focused on the screen of the scanner. Fox’s rapidly dwindling patience finally snaps.

“One of you explain, _now_ ,” he growls, teeth bared. Corks takes a startled step back, eyes wide, but Tooka has seen enough osik in the medbay to not even flinch.

“Well, Commander,” they start with false cheeriness as they straighten up. “Congratulations, you’re pregnant!”

Fox isn’t sure if the world has gone silent or if the buzzing in his ears has just gotten loud enough to drown it all out. All he can do is stare at the medic in shock, mind full enough to burst and yet completely empty at the same time. He thinks Tooka starts cursing, because they always wrinkle their nose when they do it, and then starts barking out orders. Suddenly the medbay is in a flurry, medics dashing around and shoving vod out the doors. His view of the bay is cut off by a privacy curtain snapping shut and Tooka is right in his face, hands on his bucket. Sound returns in a rush.

“-gonna take your helmet off, Commander,” Tooka is saying once the staticky buzz has receded enough for Fox to understand. He doesn’t have time to react before they’re pulling it off, quickly setting it aside. “Kark, you look like _osik_ . Commander? Commander, do you hear me?” Fox blinks slowly at Tooka and they hiss out another string of expletives. “Fox!” Fox’s whole body jolts. “Oh thank _ka’ra_ ,” Tooka mutters. “Fox, I need you to lie down, alright?” Fox nods dully, letting Tooka push him down onto the bed. His head is still spinning.

The clones weren’t supposed to be able to get pregnant. Prime had told the Kaminoans that the testosterone they were on would make it impossible. That was why he’d wanted Boba after all, wasn’t it? But Tooka was saying Fox was pregnant, and Tooka was a _kriffing good_ medic, there was no way they would make such an outlandish claim without something to back it up.

“You back with us, Fox?” Tooka asked, voice soft. Fox’s head lolled to the side, letting him see the medic. Tooka was perched on a stool next to the exam bed, a deep crease between their brows.

“Is it really true?” is the first thing that comes out of Fox’s mouth, far more thready and desperate than he’d like. Tooka’s shoulders slump as they exhale heavily.

“...Yeah,” they say. “I did an ultrasound while you were out of it to confirm.” Tooka must see something in Fox’s face, because their expression softens. “I know this is quite a shock, so you can take some time before we-”

“No,” Fox cuts them off. His hands are shaking. “No, I don’t want to put this off.” Tooka sighs, running a hand through their hair.

“Well, there’s a few things to address. Your health, firstly, then the other parent and what we’re going to do going forward.” Fox’s heart catches in his chest.

“The- the other parent?” he manages to rasp out. Tooka sits up straight, looking alarmed.

“We need to know in case the baby is a different species,” they say slowly, eyeing him suspiciously. “Why, what’s-”

They barely manage to get a bucket before Fox vomits.

“Fox…” Fox can recognize Thorn’s voice in a heartbeat and rolls over onto his side, turning his back to his fellow commander. He hears Thorn sigh and sit down. “What’s going on, vod? Tooka filled me in on the whole pregnancy situation, but we both know there’s more bothering you.” Fox stays silent and after a long moment, Thorn continues. “There’s something about the other parent, right?” Fox flinches. “There is. Fox, please, tell me,” Thorn pleads, voice threaded with desperation.

“I don’t want this baby,” Fox says instead, voice weak. He wraps his arms around his stomach, unable to look at Thorn. “The Mando’ade are supposed to love children, but I can’t-”

“Hey, hey, calm down, Fox,” Thorn soothes, sitting down on the bed next to Fox, his weight a familiar comfort. A hand settles in Fox’s hair and Fox is pathetically grateful for it, closing his eyes and hating himself more than he ever has in his life. “I’m not going to judge you for that and neither are the others. It’s your body, vod, and we know how important that is.”

“Really?” Fox turns to look up at Thorn, feeling too exhausted and wrung out to cry.

“Of course. Nobody should expect you to carry a baby that will put your life at risk.” Fox curls in on himself.

“...I’m scared,” Fox admits, voice trembling. “Not- not of the Kaminoans, but…” Thorn’s fingers run through Fox’s hair.

“It’s okay, Fox. Let it out.” Fox turns to Thorn and buries his face in the man’s stomach, his body racked with silent sobs. Thorn ran a soothing hand along his back, murmuring soft words of reassurance until Fox finally drifted off.

“Can… Can Thorn stay with me this time?” Tooka looks visibly unsettled and concerned at the level of vulnerability Fox is showing, but nods.

“Of course. We can start wherever you’re comfortable.” Fox bites his lip, Thorn a familiar heat at his side.

“Is Fox alright aside from the whole pregnancy thing?” Thorn asks, and Fox looks over at him gratefully. Tooka purses their lips together but nods.

“He’s _normal_ at least,” they say irritably. “Still dehydrated and in desperate need of sleep and some good meals.” Thorn and Tooka share identical grimaces, and Fox huffs indignantly. He’s not _that_ bad! “I do need to mention that if Fox chooses to go forward with the pregnancy, he would need to go off of his testosterone and would be at a much greater risk for complications.” Fox pales several shades and Thorn is already shaking his head. “The only other real option is to have an abortion,” Tooka offers, voice soft. “I’ll have to look into how to conduct it safely and how to keep it under the radar, but it’s feasible.”

“ _Please_ ,” Fox rasps out. Tooka nods, writing out a note on their datapad.

“Alright. Now, I know this is a hard question, but I still need to know some things about the other parent.” Fox flinches, curling in on himself, and Thorn wraps an arm around him.

“You’re alright, vod,” Thorn says quietly. “We’re here with you, okay?”

“...I can’t tell you who it is,” Fox says quietly.

“Fox…” Thorn starts, but Fox cuts him off.

“I literally _can’t_ tell you who it is.” Tooka pales.

“You were assaulted?” they ask urgently. Fox is shaking.

“N-no?” he says, but even he can hear how unsure it is. “I know who it might be, but I can’t- I can’t _tell_.”

“How come you can’t tell?” Thorn asks, voice soft. “Are- are they threatening you?” Fox flinches but shakes his head.

“No, it’s not… I just…” He pulls his knees up to his chest in a way he hasn’t done since he was a young cadet. “...It’s a Jedi,” he finally mumbles. Thorn stiffens and Tooka’s eyes go wide. “He- he did something.”

“A Jedi?” they repeat, tension clear in their voice. Fox nods miserably.

“I t-think it’s him, at least. Can- Can we stop talking about it?” Thorn and Tooka exchanged worried looks over his head, but after a long moment, Tooka nods slowly.

“If you aren’t planning on keeping the fetus, I guess it’s not vital that you tell me,” they say, clearly reluctant and displeased at letting the topic slide. Fox’s shoulders sag in relief and Thorn pulls him close in a half-hug. Tooka sighs, dropping down into their seat heavily. “I know you hate the medbay, so I’ll let you leave as long as someone stays with you overnight,” they inform him sternly. “And I want you to actually come in every Centaxday until we’re ready to terminate your pregnancy, got it?” Fox nods, too relieved to even feel annoyed about how much time he’ll be spending in the medbay in the future. He hears Thorn quietly conversing with Tooka over his head as he starts to doze off, his face pressed into Thorn’s shoulder.

Tooka chews on their lip, looking down at their datapad. They know just how much Fox values his privacy, and normally Tooka would be the first to tell anybody poking their noses into peoples’ medical business to kriff off, but… this could potentially be a lot bigger than just Fox.

The Guard don’t interact much with the Jedi, but one of them had gotten to Fox. That might have not been too bad, since the Guard wasn’t actually directly under Jedi control, but it was as clear as day that Fox’s encounter with the Jedi that fathered his baby was distressing for the Commander. And, considering what Fox put up with on a daily basis, that was no small feat. That wasn’t even touching on the ‘something’ that was stopping Fox from telling them who the other father was, which is no doubt going to be even more upsetting once Tooka pries out an explanation from Fox after the man has had a break. What could that mean for the brothers out on the front who interact with Jedi on the daily and _were_ under their command? If a Jedi could stop them from reporting, even to other brothers… It’s a kriffing nightmare. And on top of all that, the news that at least one of them was capable of conceiving is _definitely_ something the other medics need to know about, regardless of the circumstances.

Tooka sighs, opening up the CMO chat. They usually prefer not to talk in it, only really reaching out to the other medics for consultations.

**Tooka (CT-8932):** _@everyone_

**Daze (CT-2839):** hey tooka!

**Kix (CT-6116):** really??

**Carrion (CT-3974):** Uh, why are they still typing

**Monde (CT-2194):** uh oh

**Tooka (CT-8932):** Earlier today a member of the Guard showed up in the medbay complaining of nausea and fatigue. Two scans were done by a junior medic and then another by me, all revealing the same result: the trooper was pregnant. While he was recovering from the news, I took an ultrasound to confirm. The ultrasound also revealed that the trooper is approximately eight weeks along.

When pressed about the fetus’ father, the trooper expressed considerable distress. The only identifying pieces of information that he gave us was that the other parent was male and a Jedi. There was a weak denial of it being an assault, but even if there wasn’t, it’s likely that the other parent still did something to the victim.

The victim is a high-ranking member of the Guard and has no reason to lie about this, nor do I think he is capable of faking the amount of distress he was showing. He has chosen to terminate this pregnancy regardless, so I will be looking into resources on that.

**Carrion (CT-3974):** Fuck

**Daze (CT-2839):** is the trooper alright??

**Tooka (CT-8932):** Not really. He didn’t take the news well.

**Kix (CT-6116):** seven kriffing hells, tooka

 **Kix (CT-6116):** what the actual karking _fuck_?!

**Monde (CT-2194):** _osik_

**Tooka (CT-8932):** You don’t say.

**Carrion (CT-3974):** ...You really think a Jedi raped a vod?

**Tooka (CT-8932):** ...Yeah.

**Monde (CT-2194):** …

 **Monde (CT-2194):** you think it might have happened to others, don’t you?

**Tooka (CT-8932):** Yes.

**Kix (CT-6116):** general skywalker would never!

**Tooka (CT-8932):** I’m not accusing your Jedi specifically, alright?

 **Tooka (CT-8932):** All I know is that a high-ranking trooper walked out of my medbay with a fetus in his belly that he doesn’t want and said it was a Jedi’s fault.

 **Tooka (CT-8932):** And until I find out who the _hut’uun_ that raped my brother is, the Jedi are staying on my suspect list.

**Monde (CT-2194):** hey, vod’ika, go take a break. Get some sleep.

 **Monde (CT-2194):** we’ll look into things on the termination front and send you anything that looks useful, alright?

**Tooka (CT-8932):** ...Thank you.

Tooka exhales heavily, shoulders slumping in relief. Help… help is good. Tooka knows that they tend to be a little… prickly… but it’s still a weight off their chest to hear that the other medics are still willing to lend them a hand. They turn their datapad off, starting to pack up their stuff for the night. A soft _ding_ echoes loudly in the empty room. Tooka pauses, surprised. They don’t get notifications from the CMO chat, and the Commanders have a separate alarm from the rest of the vode. Curious, they grab the datapad and open the message.

**Kix (CT-6116):** hey, could i let generals skywalker and kenobi know about this?

Tooka’s eyes narrow. They thought they’d made their point clear in the chat - the Jedi were still very much suspect where they were concerned, the memory of Fox’s tear-streaked face painfully fresh. Their fingers fly across the keyboard.

**Tooka (CT-8932):** No.

The response is nearly instantaneous - Kix had probably already been typing it out before he’d seen Tooka’s message.

**Kix (CT-6116):** i swear we haven’t been on Coruscant in _months_ , vod, you can check the records if you want to be sure.

Tooka pauses. They hadn’t actually thought of that - they probably would have, if their day hadn’t been quite so kriffing chaotic, but that was neither here nor there. They quickly pull up the relevant documentation - Tooka has never had as much appreciation for Fox’s filing system as they do now - and check it against the window they’d narrowed down the time of conception to. It wasn’t 100% perfect, of course - any confidential missions wouldn’t be available for Tooka’s clearance level and could have easily pulled one of them to Coruscant - but it was still a mark in favor of their innocence. 

They hesitate, fingers hovering over the keys. The logical part of their brain insists that they need to keep things under wraps, especially from people who were still suspects and had the power to retaliate if tipped off. On the other hand, though, Tooka _knows_ they can’t shoulder this mess on their own. The other medics helping with the logistics of terminating Fox’s pregnancy helps, of course, but Tooka isn’t made for investigations. They’re a _medic_ , and their training and resources reflect that. Thorn will no doubt offer his help, of course, even if Fox himself doesn’t, but he’ll likely be caught up in the struggle that is keeping an eye on Fox on a day-to-day basis, and the last thing Tooka wants to do is put _more_ work on Fox’s shoulders. They sigh, drumming their fingers against the table as they lean back in their chair.

They could skip past the Generals entirely, just alert Cody and Rex of the potential threat to the vode and hope that they kept it to themselves. They were some of the closest vod to their Jedis, but Tooka knows that they can keep vode matters where they belong - within the vode. That would definitely weigh on them, though, and Fox would hate putting stress on his batchmate like that. Tooka groans, letting their head fall back and hit the wall with a dull _thud_. Kark. They’re a medic, not a commander!

Tooka hears the sound of another notification and sighs. They might just be a medic, but they were the one making decisions right now. They can’t just sit on a fence forever. Mind finally made up, they sigh once more for good measure.

**Tooka (CT-8932):** Fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this kinda popped up because i like to hurt my faves and it was bothering me that i saw so many unplanned pregnancy fics where abortion is immediately dismissed as an option or looked down upon by the characters (those fics aren't *bad*, ofc, i enjoy them at times, i was just in a Mood and ended up with this bizarre self-indulgent mess)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> have some brotherly love and a sprinkling of plot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (more discussion of rape/abortion)

Thorn sighs heavily as Fox shuffles into his quarters, taking in the stiffness of his shoulders, the tension in his spine. His brother has always been one to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, but this is different. Thorn knows how to help with paperwork, knows how to sweet-talk Senators, knows how to manage their men - he doesn’t know how to deal with this.

Fox is pregnant. That in of itself is a shock, but Thorn has never cared too much about their biology or having kids. It’s Fox’s reaction that’s got anxiety gnawing at Thorn’s back, the breakdown and the revelation that had come from it. It’s a mess of complicated emotions that Thorn has boxed up and set aside to deal with later - right now, Fox needs him.

“Let’s get your armor off, vod,” Thorn says softly. Fox jolts, but doesn’t make any move to start pulling the plastoid off his body. Thorn’s heart twists in his chest as he sees just how _lost_ Fox looks. He’s never seen Fox look this way, not even when they were cadets and Fox was just a skinny vod Thorn found crammed into the space between two blocky machines with skinned knees and bloody knuckles. “Fox’ika, I’m going to take your armor off, alright?”

“‘Lek,” Fox mumbles, but he still flinches when Thorn touches him. Thorn hates it, hates the Jedi for creating the bastard that hurt Fox, hates that Fox no longer associates a vod’s touch with _safety_. But still, he forces it down, packs it up in a box right next to the things he’d learned in the medbay. Anger won’t help Fox now. His vod’ika needs love and support, not Thorn gallivanting off to go gut Fox’s rapist.

Piece by piece, Thorn carefully removes Fox’s armor, talking softly to his brother as Fox manages to make a few vague noises of assent here and there. Once Fox’s greaves are off, his brother sags. Thorn catches him, presses a kiss to Fox’s matted curls. “You’re okay, _ner’vod_ , it’s okay.” The sound that comes out of Fox’s mouth is raw and desperate as he clings to Thorn, fingers twisted into the fabric of Thorn’s blacks so tightly that his knuckles are white.

Thorn is gentle as he guides Fox over to his bunk, noting with a frown just how pristine the sheets are - how long has it been since Fox actually slept here? As he eases Fox down onto the mattress, he swipes a finger over the side of the bunk. It comes away dusty, and Thorn sighs internally. He kicks his boots off, rids Fox of his own, and lays down on the narrow bunk. Fox makes a small sound of protest, but Thorn pulls him close until Fox’s head is resting on his chest, their legs tangled together.

“Thorn…” Fox’s words are half-muffled, but Thorn gives a hum of acknowledgment as he runs a hand up and down Fox’s back. “I have flimsiwork to do-” Thorn rolls his eyes.

“Fox’ika, stop thinking about work. I’ll help you with the flimsiwork later, but you need a break.”

“No I don’t,” Fox grumbles petulantly, but some of the tension in his body eases. Thorn smiles at his brother fondly, mussing Fox’s hair before resuming stroking his back.

“You’re safe, _ner’vod_ ,” Thorn whispers as Fox starts to drift off. “I’ve got you.”

“What’s this all about, Kix?” Anakin asks with a frown, leg bouncing restlessly. “Did something happen?”

“You could say that, sir,” Kix hedges, the datapad in his hands feeling heavier than usual. “A situation cropped up on Coruscant, and the Guard’s medic passed the information along.”

“That sounds rather foreboding,” Rex says dryly. Anakin snorts and Cody elbows his brother in the side. Kix has to swallow around a lump in his throat. He glances over at General Kenobi and sees that the Jedi’s eyes are still focused on him, not on Rex and Cody’s bickering.

“Please fill us in, Kix,” General Kenobi says, his voice soft. It still cuts through the noise like butter, though, and the other three straighten up and turn back to Kix.

“Ah, yes.” Anakin coughs into his fist, cheeks faintly pink. “Go ahead, Kix.” Kix can’t help but feel bemused at their antics, the weight he’s carried in his chest easing slightly. The amusement is fleeting, though, as he remembers the situation.

“One of the troopers in the Coruscant Guard is pregnant,” he says bluntly. Anakin’s eyes go comically wide, but Kix keeps his gaze focused on his brothers. There’s a sort of desperate hope in Rex’s eyes, something raw and frantic.

“We can-?”

“Apparently, unless this trooper has a mutation,” Kix says. Cody puts a steadying hand on Rex’s shoulder and looks up to meet Kix’s eyes.

“That’s not all of it, though, is it?” There’s a tired resignation in his voice that’s all too familiar. It’s a tone that Kix has heard far too often, these past few months. He shakes his head, a grim look settling across his face.

“No. The CMO was pretty sure that the trooper was raped.” General Kenobi inhales sharply and Rex looks nauseous.

“Has this kind of thing happened before?” There’s a sharpness to General Kenobi’s voice that Kix has never heard before and he stares at the General in surprise for a moment before he comes back to himself.

“It depends on what you mean by ‘this’, sir,” Kix admits. Metal creaks and groans as Anakin’s prosthetic hand clenches the edge of the table. “Officially, you won’t find a thing. Unofficially, there’s been a few incidents with civvies, usually when the men are on leave, but brothers look out for each other. I’ve never heard of anything this bad.”

“So you believe the Guard’s medic about this being a rape?” There’s no accusation in General Kenobi’s voice, but Kix bristles.

“Of course I believe them,” he snaps. “Tooka doesn’t make claims if they aren’t pretty sure about them.” He stops, makes himself take a deep breath. “Tooka knows what they’re doing,” he says finally. “They were too stressed for them to be making it up, either.” General Kenobi bows his head in acknowledgment.

“Not that this isn’t important or anything,” Anakin ventures, sounding a little hesitant. “But why are we hearing about it from you? Surely the Council…” he must see something in Kix’s expression, because he trails off.

“There’s more,” Kix says quietly. All four men straighten up, attention focused entirely on Kix. “The trooper who was assaulted… he says his rapist was a Jedi.”

“What?” Surprisingly, it’s Rex who speaks first, looking like he’d been slapped. “They wouldn’t- That’s not-”

“A Jedi wouldn’t do that,” Anakin protests, turning to look at General Kenobi. “Right, Master?” Kenobi doesn’t respond immediately, something haunted in his eyes as he gazes at Kix with furrowed brows. “Master?” Anakin repeats, starting to sound concerned.

“...Ultimately, the Jedi are people,” General Kenobi says softly. “And people are flawed. It wouldn’t be the first time a Jedi has done something reprehensible, and it won’t be the last.” He exhales heavily, running a hand down his face. He looks older than Kix has ever seen him, tired and defeated. Cody steps closer to his general, puts a hand on the man’s shoulder. Kenobi leans into the touch, shooting Cody a tired smile.

“You really think a Jedi could have done this, Master?”

“I certainly think it has enough value to be worth looking into. I can let the Council-”

“With all due respect, General, I think Tooka might actually kill me if that happens,” Kix says. Everyone looks at him in shock, even Kix’s brothers - not that he can blame them. Tooka is certainly not somebody you want to cross, but they’ve always been more bark than bite.

“And why is that?” General Kenobi inquires, a small frown on his face. Kix sighs.

“Look, I had to wrangle special permission out of Tooka just to tell you both about this,” he says. “And to even get that much I had to suggest they check our deployments just to get you two off the suspect list.” Anakin reels back like he’d been slapped.

“We were suspects?” he asks incredulously, anger starting to rise. Kix quickly nips _that_ in the bud.

“Only to Tooka,” he quickly assures his General. “Like I said, I vouched for you both. Tooka’s just a little paranoid right now.” Anakin grimaces at the reminder and nods. He looks frustrated, trapped. Righteously indignant but with no outlet. An idea starts to dawn on Kix. “...You can’t tell the Council,” he says slowly. “But Tooka never said anything about a more… off-the-books investigation.” His general, predictably, perks up. General Kenobi sighs, but he has a fond smile on his face. Cody arches a brow skeptically, Kix’s previous comment no doubt fresh in his mind. The more Kix thinks about it, though, the more it seems perfect.

Tooka is clearly the one handling the situation at the Guard - understandable, medics outrank everyone where health is involved, and Tooka is by no means afraid to enforce that policy with a vengeance. They’re still a medic, though, and not one who’s regularly out in the field like Kix - they don’t have the experience or resources to run a covert investigation. The Commanders might, but for all that jokes about the Guard having cushy lives and guarding Senators, Kix is aware they’ve got a lot of things on their hands. Plus, depending on the trooper’s identity, they might be too close to the situation.

The 501st has two weeks of leave on Coruscant. They might as well make the most of it.

“Hey, where’s Commander Fox?” somebody says. Thire blinks - he’s never known Fox to be anything less than perfectly punctual, always showing up for his shift even when he probably shouldn’t be. Thire glances around the barracks, though, and the unknown vod is right. The Commander is nowhere in sight. A bad feeling starts to pool in Thire’s stomach.

“He went to the medbay yesterday,” one of the shinies says to their fellows. “The medics started to freak out and kicked me out!”

“Your face probably scared them off,” a brother retorts, and the shiny gasps dramatically. They start tussling and Thire pulls his gaze away. Fox avoided the medbay whenever possible, but something had clearly happened - something big, if the medics had made less injured vode leave.

If there’s one person in the Guard who knows every bit of gossip and drama in the medbay, it’s Tooka. Thire spots a head of silvery hair across the room and starts working his way through the crowd of brothers. Tooka was either involved, as CMO, or at least had some knowledge from the other medics that they could give Thire.

Thire pushes out of the crowd and tries not to stumble. Tooka has their back to him, making caf at the busted-up machine Tinker had scavenged. “Commander Thire,” they say before he can speak, not turning to face him. “Do you need something?”

“Do you know why Fox isn’t here?” Tooka pauses - only for a heartbeat, but medics have steady hands and they don’t hesitate. Thire’s eyes narrow, the bad feeling growing. “Tooka.” They sigh, finally turning to look at him.

They look terrible. Thire’s eyebrows shoot up. Tooka’s never been one to care much about their appearance aside from dying their hair, but they usually cleaned up pretty well. Looking at them now, Thire honestly isn’t sure if they slept at all last night. The crease between their brows looks like it’s trying to become permanent, the dark bags under their eyes contrasting sharply with their hair. Tooka sighs again, taking a sip of their caf before they speak. “Commander Fox’s situation is currently confidential.” They project their voice so that the crowd of brothers can hear it. “It is his decision to de-classify it.” There’s a few grumbles and complaints, but the majority of the Guard turns their attention away from Tooka and Thire.

“So what can you tell me?” Thire asks, his voice carefully even.

“Let’s just say that the Commander threw some ideas out on their head and let some information slip that he probably should have revealed a long time ago.” They take a sip of caf. “Thorn should have stayed the night with him, so he’s in good hands.” Thire groans, the reassurance that Fox is safe tempered by the realization that that means _Thire_ is in charge. Tooka smirks and takes another sip of caf. “Have fun, acting Commander of the Guard.”

It’s probably not mature to flip them off as he leaves, but Thire does it anyways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is. a mess. this chapter did Not want to cooperate, so i might still go back and edit this at some point


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a peek at how fox is coping (hint: he's not.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for implied/discussed rape and a mention of child abuse/slavery (obi-wan's past a la the jedi apprentice series)
> 
> i was stuck on draft 3 of this for like two full days before inspiration hit me and i busted out like 80% of this in one night.

When Fox wakes, he isn’t alone. His heart catches in a throat when he feels the arm around him, holding him down- There’s a groan as the other person shifts in their sleep, and Fox realizes that it’s just Thorn. The relief hits him like a blaster bolt to the chest, and he has to take a few moments to calm his breathing. He’s safe.

Fox sits up, carefully extracting himself from Thorn’s grasp. His brother mumbles something in his sleep, but doesn’t wake. Fox can’t help the fond smile that flits across his face as he looks at Thorn’s sleeping face and wild bedhead.

For as much as Fox has always nagged his brother about growing it out, he couldn’t deny that it suits Thorn well. The smile fades, though, as the reality of the past day starts to sink in. Fox carefully extracts himself from Thorn’s sprawled limbs and shivers as the cool air of the room hits him. There’s nowhere for him to go in his tiny quarters, so he sits down on the cold durasteel and closes his eyes.

He can’t believe all it took was one trip to the medbay for his life to come down around his ears. If he hadn’t seen Corks and Tooka, things would still be _normal_ . No, that’s not fair, he admits, letting his head fall back against the wall. He’d been doomed as soon as _he_ had knocked Fox up. The thought makes Fox’s stomach turn.

He’s been trying to avoid thinking about that part of the whole situation. Had the man done something to Fox? Had he been _intending_ to make Fox pregnant? Fox feels bile rise in his throat and swallows. He quickly rips his mind away from the topic and focuses on what he does know - he had told his brothers about _him_ . No names, of course - Fox was all too aware that if he tried to name the man, a weight would press down on his neck, freezing his vocal cords and cutting off his air for one long, terrifying moment. Even through the haze of panic and disorientation, that much had remained clear in Fox’s mind. He’d said no names, but he’d done something nearly as bad- he’d told them that _he_ was a Jedi.

Maybe it had been the adrenaline, the panic in his veins and his heartbeat thundering in his ears. Maybe it had been the low blood sugar from throwing up so many times. It doesn’t really matter, because Fox had said the man who got him pregnant was a Jedi.

“Kark,” Fox mutters under his breath, running a hand through his hair. He’s not sure which part is worse - that he’d revealed a vital clue or that they would still never find the man, even with that clue. There’s just no way he’ll ever be caught - he’s too good at playing the game and hiding right under the Jedi’s noses. The Vode are more likely to find out this point than the Jedi.

His stomach churns at the thought. All he can think of is his brothers rushing forward fruitlessly, only to get cut down by a glowing red blade, all because of Fox. This is why he’d never wanted them to know. He knows that they won’t let this lie - Tooka, in particular, is no doubt stewing on some kind of plan by now. Fox bites his lip. Would him telling them to drop it stop them?

No, he decides after a moment, shoulders slumping. Thorn will be on Tooka’s side, and Thorn has known Fox long enough to know how to talk him into things against his own interests. Fox doesn’t stand a chance against the both of them, not about _this_. He sighs again, before pushing himself up to his feet. Fox glances back at Thorn, still out cold. He thinks about waking him up for half a moment, but decides against it. Thorn had had to deal with Fox’s little meltdown yesterday, the least Fox can do is let him sleep in a little.

With a nod to himself, Fox grabs himself a clean pair of blacks and gets dressed. He reaches for his armor automatically but hesitates. Tooka hadn’t said he was unfit for duty, but since nobody had come to wake he or Thorn up - and yes, Fox did wince when he saw the chrono - Fox only had to assume that they had told the other vode to let them sleep. Fox grimaces as he drops his hand and walks away, feeling uncomfortably exposed, but he’s really not up for dealing with Tooka’s wrath. It’s not like he can’t come back and grab it after he tracks the medic down. Fox’s stomach growls and he feels his cheeks heat up even though there’s nobody there to hear it. ...It won’t hurt to wait until after he eats, either.

Mind made up, Fox opens his door and cautiously pokes his head out. The barracks are predictably quite empty, but there’s a few vode lounging around and chatting. One of the shinies - Scoot, probably - spots him and stands up so fast that he slams his head into the bunk. Fox winces at the sound, but at least the kid had his bucket on. Other brothers let out noises of alarm, but Scoot ignores them and scrambles back up to his feet.

“Commander Fox, sir! You’re alright!” All heads snap to look at Fox and he flushes. It’s not that he’s not used to people paying attention to him - he _is_ a commander, after all - but it feels odd when he’s only in his blacks. Fox gives the shiny a short nod, quickly scanning the rest of the room. Tooka’s head of silver hair is nowhere in sight.

“Thank you, trooper,” Fox says absently, trying to recall Tooka’s medical shifts off the top of his head. Tooka is a creature of habit, and they shouldn’t be on shift again for another few hours if he’s remembering correctly. “Do you know where Tooka is?”

“Were you injured, sir?” one of the other vode asks worriedly. “We can take you to the medbay if you need to.” Fox feels his eye twitch. This. This is why he hates the Force-damned medbay. Everyone gets it in their heads that you’re suddenly an invalid and become _stifling_.

“I am _not_ injured,” Fox says, and it comes out more sharply than he really means it to. Scoot cringes, but the vod who had asked only winces. Fox glares at him but he very pointedly does not look back in Fox’s direction.

“What happened yesterday then?” another shiny blurts out, tacking on a “Sir.” as an afterthought.

“What’s Tooka told you so far?” Fox counters, finally stepping out of his room completely and closing the door. The shinies - there’s a third on the ground next to the other two - all groan as some of the older vode chuckle.

“You know Tooka doesn’t give up the goat about this kind of thing, vod,” Cardinal complains, lounging on a bed that Fox knows for a fact isn’t his. “C’mon, spill!” A jolt of fear shoots up Fox’s spine, a glowing blade appearing in his mind’s eye.

“No,” Fox snaps and Cardinal rears back, eyes wide. Fox winces. Cardinal isn’t a vod Fox is particularly close to, but they’ve both been on Coruscant since the beginning. “Sorry,” Fox apologizes gruffly. Cardinal nods slowly, still eyeing Fox with an odd expression on his face. “It’s confidential medical information,” he says, like that isn’t the most unhelpful thing possible. The look Cardinal shoots him makes it clear the other man thinks the same, but he drops the topic. The shinies, unfortunately, don’t.

“Wait, you said it wasn’t an injury, but are you sick or something?” Scoot makes an attempt to shush his much more audacious brother and earns a pillow to the face for his efforts. All it does is knock his bucket off, but he looks appropriately indignant regardless. Fox sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“No, I am not sick,” he says flatly. _Just knocked up by a demagolka_ , his mind hisses unhelpfully. “Now, do any of you know where Tooka is or do I need to pull rank?”

“They’re in their office, sir,” the third shiny - Hash, Fox finally remembers, making the audacious one Blast - finally pipes up. “They’ve been in there pretty much all day.”

“Thank you, trooper,” Fox says with a small smile, making Hash flush and duck his head, clearly embarrassed. Fox has no clue how he caused that, but it’s not his problem anymore as he quickly exits the barracks and heads straight towards the medbay.

Despite being connected to the medbay, Tooka’s office - thankfully - has a second door connected to the hall. Fox usually uses it regardless, but today he’s particularly glad it exists. After everything, he doesn’t think he can stomach being in the medbay again so soon.

Tooka is on a holocall when Fox enters, arguing angrily with whatever brother they’re talking to. Fox’s eyebrows shoot up. “-you can't just barge in and- and karking _take over_ \--!” Fox steps in and closes the door behind him, making sure it shuts quietly. Now that he’s closer, Fox realizes that Tooka is talking with the 501st’s medic.

“Does the 501st have some business with the Guard?” he asks mildly. The sound Tooka lets out can only be described as a _yowl_ , and they whip around to shoot him with their most venomous glare.

“Commander!” Tooka snaps. They’re probably getting ready to lecture him, but Fox leans forward and looks at the holocall curiously.

“Well?” Kix shifts uncomfortably, clearly looking at Tooka for some kind of cue. Tooka groans loudly - and far more melodramatically than Fox really thinks is warranted.

“I had to tell the other medics about what we found out yesterday,” they say, watching him carefully. Fox stiffens, and it’s only years of experience that stop him from showing his panic on his face. “Kix suggested having Torrent Company cover the investigation - most of them will deal with deployment records, and only the COs, Kix, and an ARC trooper will know of the victim’s identity.” Fox hums vaguely as his mind races. He never wanted anybody to find out, and now they’re going to go _looking_ and Fox can just tell that an investigation will go on whether or not he wants it to. “Sir…” Tooka says softly, shooting him a worried look.

“It’s fine,” Fox says, a little too quick. Kix doesn’t seem to notice, but Tooka’s eyes narrow. Fox’s heart is racing, his palms sweating. His heartbeat pounds in his ears and he swallows hard. “I’ll put Thorn on as a liaison if you think this is what’s best, Tooka.” Tooka looks at him for a long moment, their gaze hard and assessing, before they reluctantly nod.

“I don’t like it any more than you do, sir,” they admit. “But Kix has a point. The 501st has lassitude that we don’t, and an outside perspective might help.” It’s not untrue. Maybe Fox is being selfish, but he’d rather have some other vode take the risk than his Guard. Fox knows that their outside perspective will do nothing to help them, but Skywalker’s influence means they probably won’t be killed for a small misstep. Probably. Fox nods sharply. “Sir-”

“The 501st can run the investigation,” Fox speaks right over Tooka. “But the victim’s identity will not be revealed over holo or comms.”

“That’s reasonable,” Kix acquiesces easily, already deep in thought. “Right, thanks Tooka, Commander Fox. I’ll go let the General know.” He hangs up and Tooka immediately whips around to glare at Fox, but he’s already half out the door.

“Fox-!” they snap. “We need to talk-” They reach out to grab his wrist, but Fox moves much faster without his armor to weigh him down. Tooka stumbles as Fox ducks out the door. They angrily hiss curses under their breath as they lurch towards the doorframe and brace themselves against it to see Fox’s fleeing form.

“I’ll be in my office if someone needs anything!” Fox calls out, already halfway down the hall and not looking back at Tooka’s frustrated snarl.

Obi-Wan is meditating. Obi-Wan has been meditating a lot recently, ever since The Meeting. Anakin might say that Obi-Wan is being dramatic, thinking of it with capital letters like that, but Obi-Wan honestly couldn’t care less right now.

There’s too much going on in his head no matter how hard Obi-Wan tries to release it into the Force. It just keeps coming back whenever he sees Kix in passing in the halls, or when he feels Anakin’s bubbling anger over their bond as he pours himself into fixing up a busted ship.

Obi-Wan has seen a lot of terrible things in his life, but it never makes it easier to hear about such horrors, such atrocities. He can still remember Bandomeer, the guards’ laughter as they broke the woman who had stood between them and Obi-Wan, how he had crawled over to her limp form when they left and sobbed. It was the first time he’d ever felt truly, _utterly_ powerlessness, and it was an experience that had never truly left Obi-Wan.

He feels that same powerlessness now. He’s a Jedi High General, a Master Jedi, but he still can’t protect the clones, the people under his care, under his responsibility. He can’t even investigate it like Anakin can, his position only barely allowing him to be on Coruscant when Torrent met with the Guard’s medic.

“General…” he hears from behind him. He doesn’t have to look to know that it’s Cody, the man’s Force presence a steady warmth at his back.

“Hello, Cody,” he says. He doesn’t want to talk to Cody as his superior officer, not when he has failed the Vode so spectacularly.

“Obi-Wan,” Cody amends, stepping forward to sit at Obi-Wan’s side. “It’s not your fault.”

“I’m the one who brought you to the Republic’s - to the Order’s - attention.”

“The Kaminoans would have probably reached out on their own once they were finished,” Cody points out mildly.

“Still.” Obi-Wan’s lips twist into a frown. “I should have known something like this could happen, put rules-”

“With all due respect, General,” Cody cuts in. “You are one man. Nobody else on the Jedi Council thought of it either. Even I didn’t.” Obi-Wan is already shaking his head before the man is done speaking.

“I know the flaws of the Order better than many of my fellow Jedi,” he says, feeling the resignation in his bones as memories wash over him. Of Bruck, of Xanatos, of Galdiraan and Dooku. “I should have realized that there would be those to take advantage of their power.” He can feel Cody’s protest rising in the force, with a certain bullish quality to it that meant his Commander had no intention of backing down.

“Sir- Obi-Wan,” he corrects when he sees the look on Obi-Wan’s face. “The Guard aren’t under direct Jedi control, either - any regulations for preventing abuses under chain-of-command wouldn’t have applied. We haven’t been on Coruscant for any significant amount of time since the war started, there was no way for you to have noticed. There’s dozens of other Jedi at the temple who would have been in closer proximity and they didn’t notice either.” Obi-Wan exhales slowly. Cody isn’t wrong. He can feel how much this is hurting his Commander, too, a deep-seated ache at the thought of failing his vode. Obi-Wan sighs.

“You’re right Cody, as always,” he says as he goes to stand. He feels Cody’s surprise through the Force as the man quickly rises to his feet. He shoots his Commander a smile that he hopes isn’t as weak as he feels. “I suppose we’ll just have to make sure such a thing never happens again.” Cody smiles back at him, looking just as tired as Obi-Wan feels.

“Of course, sir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BONUS: a short Tooka POV that didn't really fit in the ch
> 
> “You want to what?” Tooka says incredulously.  
> “Start an investigation,” Kix says earnestly. “We’re on leave right now, and that means the Guard won’t have to try to work around the trooper.” Tooka lets out a hissing exhale as they run a hand down their face. Kriff, they should have known something like this would happen. The 501st always has the craziest plans.  
> “Can your men be discreet?” Tooka finally says. “Because if they do anything to tip off-”  
> “Fives is an ARC trooper,” Kix quickly reassures them. “He can do low-key.” Still, Tooka grimaces.  
> “I don’t know, Kix,” they say uncomfortably. “It’s not that I don’t think your men are up to par, but this is a Guard matter.” Kix straightens up, his expression sobering.  
> “Tooka, this is a vode matter,” he says. “This could have-”  
> “Yes, I know,” Tooka cuts him off irritably. “I just…” Kix frowns.  
> “...Maybe they can focus on the Jedi side of things,” he says slowly as he thinks it through. “Checking deployment records against the conception window and all that. Fives and the Captain could focus on the more… delicate stuff.” Begrudgingly, Tooka nods. They don’t really want to leave this to the 501st, but Kix wasn’t wrong when he said that they aren’t equipped to run an investigation. At least this way the number of people who will know about Fox is limited, which is about as much as Tooka can ask for under these circumstances.  
> “...You can do it,” Tooka finally says. “I won’t tell you who it is until you’re on Coruscant, though.”  
> “That’s fair,” Kix admits. “Mind if I let Cody know too?” Tooka sighs, resignation sinking into their bones.  
> “You might as well.”  
> Fox is going to kill them.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fives and co reach coruscant and cody and fox Argue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: more discussion of rape

They’ve just entered real space over Coruscant when Fives’ comm buzzes with a message. Fives and half of the squad are cleaning up their armor and weapons in the barracks, although a few of them ditched it as soon as they exited hyperspace. Fives, chestplate in hand, glances over at his comm and does a double-take. Around him, he can hear the sounds of the others’ comms buzzing as they too receive the message.

**Kix (CT-6116):** Mission briefing on Deck C in 15. Be ready to go planetside.

“What the…” he hears Hardcase mutter somewhere off to his right. Fives can’t but help echo the sentiment. As an ARC, he’s used to short notice, cryptically worded missions, but this clearly isn’t an ARC mission. Even if it was, the fact that _Kix_ was sending the message and not the Captain or a communications officer was odd in of itself. A frown on his face, Fives stands and starts putting his armor on, grimacing at the dirt still clinging to his greaves.

“Where’s everyone at?” Fives calls out as he walks over to the barracks door. Unsurprisingly, Dogma is already there and shifting restlessly as he waits.

“Just need to find my bucket!” Hardcase replies, voice muffled as he sticks his head under the bunk. Fives snorts as the man emerges with a sound of triumph, holding his helmet aloft.

“Gimme a sec, I think this clasp is starting to go out,” Jesse grumbles as his bracers once again come undone. He’s fully armored, aside from his helmet, but even that is sitting next to him on the bed as he hunches over the misbehaving bracer and tries to glare it into compliance.

“Hey, Dogma, could you come help me with my hair?” Tup says to his batchmate, who straightens. Dogma walks over to Tup, posture clearly stiff and awkward, but he obediently follows instructions and manages to wrangle Tup’s hair into a decent looking bun. Tup grins, brushing a loose strand out of his face with the hand that isn’t currently splinted, and tucks his bucket under his arm. “I’m good!”

“Finally!” Jesse cries as his bracer snaps into place. He stands, shoving his bucket on and hurrying over to the rest of them. Fives snorts and opens the door, letting the others spill out into the hallway before he follows. He lingers behind the rest of the squad, mulling over Kix’s message. He just can’t stop turning it over in his head, wondering what kind of mission would warrant the CMO handling the debrief instead of the Captain - something medical-related, probably, but even then the Captain or CO still usually started things off before handing it over to the medic. Something seems odd about this whole situation, but Fives can’t put his finger on it, like a blaster that doesn’t quite sit right no matter what you do.

“General Kenobi?” he hears Hardcase say, surprised, and he tunes back in to the present. Sure enough, General Kenobi and Commander Cody are standing outside the room Torrent is supposed to be meeting in. The General smiles at them warmly, although Fives can see that it looks a little strained at the edges. In fact, as Torrent gets closer, Fives picks up on more and more oddities in the normally well-composed General’s appearance - he’s paler than usual, the lines of stress in his face more prominent. The biggest difference is in his eyes, though - where normally they’re warm and inviting, now they feel cold, the light normally in them gone. A chill goes down Fives’ spine.

“Oh, there you are!” Kix’s head pops out from the room and he waves them all in. Fives frowns as he takes in the medic’s appearance. All of Torrent had noticed that Kix had been acting strangely the past few days, but the medic had been even busier than usual and they’d barely even seen him. Now that he’s right in front of them, though, it’s as plain as day to see the bags under his eyes and how his hair isn’t nearly as well-tended as usual. Fives frowns.

“Captain,” he says, surprised, when he enters, Cody and General Kenobi following behind him. Anakin’s here, too, another surprise. He hadn’t been expecting both of them to be here when he saw that Kix was the one calling a meeting.

Once the door is secured behind Cody, they all loosely congregate around the holotable. Kix stands at the head, face grim. “A few days ago, a situation was brought to our attention by the Coruscant Guard.” Grimaces go around the room. Fives can’t help but wrinkle his nose, remembering the last time he’d been on Coruscant. He’d gotten tossed into the drunk tank by one of the Guard’s shinies, something that he did _not_ appreciate. It was a sentiment echoed by many brothers.

“So what, a big case stumbled into their lap and now they need us to do the heavy lifting for them?” Jesse scoffs. Kix shoots a glare at him, but - more surprisingly - so does Anakin. Fives straightens up.

“A vod was raped,” Kix says tersely. His hands grip the side of the table. His knuckles are stark white against the dark metal. Fives inhales sharply. “He says it was a Jedi.”

“What?” Hardcase says, shocked. Their other brothers let out similar sentiments, voices unintelligible as they talk over each other. “But- The Jedi wouldn’t-” General Kenobi is already shaking his head.

“We are just as fallible as any other person,” he says softly. “We have made grave mistakes in the past.” This is accepted with grimaces and a few reluctant nods. Fives notices out of the corner of his eye that Dogma seems oddly subdued. Not surprising, really, if this is treading over “chain-of-command” territory. Fives makes a note to check up on the kid later.

“Regardless,” Kix cuts in. “I suggested that we take over the investigation from the Corries due to classified circumstances.” Hardcase grimaces comically.

“Did you run this by Fox?” Rex chimes in from where he’s leaning against the wall. “I’d like to know if we need to be playing interference.”

“Rex is right,” Cody says with a tilt of his head. “Fox will be a shabuir if he thinks we ignored chain-of-command.”

“He already okay’d it,” Kix says. Fives’ eyebrows shoot up. Fox is notoriously territorial about cases or missions he thinks ‘belong’ to the Guard. For him to just hand one over is… strange.

“Has he been replaced or something?” Jesse mutters. Kix shrugs helplessly, looking just as confused.

“No clue.” Kix shakes off the confusion and pulls up his commanding attitude. “Now, this mission is of the utmost secrecy. Due to extenuating circumstances, the victim’s identity is classified.”

“Wait, how are we supposed to find out anything if we don’t know who the victim is?” Tup protests, not even getting an elbow to the side from Dogma.

“We have a window that the attack occurred in,” Kix says as a calendar appears over the table. “You’ll be cross-referencing this with deployment records to find out which Jedi were on Coruscant during this time.”

“Why not have a computer program do it?” Hardcase asks, looking a little confused. Kix grimaces.

“We’re trying to leave as little record of this as possible,” he says. “We don’t want to risk tipping off anybody that we’re looking into it.” Ah. Fives takes a deep breath as the realization sinks in. That’s why it’s _them_ handling this. “Rex, the Generals, Cody, Fives, and I will be going to meet my contact from the Guard.” Kix looks at each of them in turn. “You all will know the victim’s identity, but it’s not to be disclosed across comms or any kind of communications, only in person.” Fives frowns.

“This seems like a pretty extreme level of secrecy, even for the circumstances at hand,” he says, drumming his fingers on the metal table. Kix purses his lips.

“It was… indicated that the victim is fairly high-ranking within the Guard,” he admits reluctantly. Fives’ eyes widen. Something in the back of his head is screaming _Important, Important, Important!_

“Alright,” he says. The rest of the squad turns to look at him in surprise. “When are we leaving?” Kix blinks a few times before he jolts himself out of it. He checks the chrono.

“Right now.”

“So, who are we meeting?” Fives asks as the lift they’re in slowly creeps down. The rest of the squad was busy slogging through records in the Jedi Archives, while Cody and General Kenobi had needed to make a detour at the Temple before they could meet up with Kix’s mysterious ‘contact’. Kix makes a vague hum of acknowledgment as he types something out on his datapad.

“Tooka. They’re the Guard’s Chief Medical Officer.”

“Huh.” It does explain why Kix was the one handling everything - Tooka must have reached out, one medic to another. Fives still can’t help but wonder what could have set all of this in motion. Hopefully, some of his questions will be answered soon.

“There’s one more thing you need to know before we meet Tooka,” Kix says abruptly, powering off his datapad and turning to look at Fives. There’s a strangely intent look in his eyes and Fives’ eyebrows shoot up. He gestures for Kix to go on. “The trooper, the victim - he’s pregnant.” Fives’ whole body goes stiff.

“He’s-?!” Kix nods, a grim look on his face.

“It’s why Tooka is the one handling this whole situation,” he explains. “The trooper came down to the medbay and the scans revealed the pregnancy. When Tooka pushed about the other parent, the trooper was considerably distressed before admitting that it was a Jedi.”

“Well, hopefully we’ll catch that bastard soon,” Anakin says, crossing his arms over his chest with a dark scowl. Rex sighs, tapping his foot and glancing around the interior of the lift.

“How much longer are we going to be in here?” he asks, sounding a little tense. Fives can’t blame him. Being trapped in such a small area makes him itch. As if prompted by Rex’s words, the lift lurches and the door opens. The four of them hurry out.

A silver-haired vod, on the smaller side, is waiting for them outside of the lift. It’s been years since Fives has seen them, but Tooka has a very distinctive glower. They give Rex and Anakin a sharp nod and gesture for them to follow. They follow Tooka into the building, the medic’s ID giving them passage.

The door has barely shut behind Fives when Tooka whips around to assess them with narrow eyes. “What has Kix told you so far?” They demand waspishly. Fives shrugs.

“Just the basics. Pregnant trooper who says the baby daddy is a rapist and a Jedi.” Kix elbows him in the side and Fives grimaces. That man has pointier elbows than anybody has the right to have. Tooka’s scowl deepens.

“General Skywalker and Captain Rex know pretty much everything you told me,” Kix explains. “The rest of the squad knows about the sexual assault and the Jedi portion of it, but I only disclosed the pregnancy portion on the way here.”

“Good,” Tooka says decisively, crossing their arms over their chest. “I hope I don’t need to emphasize just how important it is that this remains discreet and under the radar?” Wordlessly, Fives shakes his head. Tooka nods sharply.

“So who’s the trooper?” Kix asks, a deep frown on his face. Tooka grimaces, their shoulders sagging. The defensiveness drops, revealing some of the exhaustion in their eyes. They sigh.

“It’s Commander Fox.”

“ _What.”_ A voice hisses out from behind them. Fives jerks, whipping around to find an incandescently furious Commander Cody, brown eyes burning into Tooka.

Fox’s door slams open, sending several of the datapads on Fox’s desk tumbling to the floor. Fox arches a brow, pointedly not looking up from the piece of flimsi he’s signing off on. “Is there something I can help you with, trooper?” he says mildly. Two hands slam down on the wood, shaking the entire desk, and Fox’s head jerks up to find his furious batchmate glaring down at him.

“Something you can help me with?” Cody snarls, every inch the raging flame that set Kote apart from his peers. “How about letting me know you were karking _raped_?!” Fox’s spine goes rigid as he stares up at his brother, panic rising in his chest. Past Cody’s shoulder, Tooka skids into view, looking disheveled and out of breath.

“Commander!” they snap. Behind them, two vod with the blue paint of the 501st appear, the Jaig eyes of Cody’s pet CT all too familiar.

“Leave us alone,” Cody growls, not looking away from Fox’s face. Tooka’s eyes dart between the two of them as they stand frozen in the doorway. Fox finally manages to find his voice.

“It’s fine, Tooka,” Fox says, voice deceptively level as he meets Cody’s eyes. “I’ll comm you after.” Tooka still looks torn, biting down on their lip.

“Are you sure, sir?”

“I’m sure,” he says, sounding more confident than he feels. Tooka nods slowly and takes a step back, out of the office. They close the door as they go, taking their sweet time. Once the door is fully shut, Cody starts back up again.

“How could you not say something?” he demands. The panic is still tight in Fox’s chest, but anger swells and his vision goes red.

“How could _I_ ? It’s my personal business, _Kote_ ,” Fox hisses, rising to his feet. “I don’t owe you _anything_ .” Cody flinches back - it’s slight, but Fox’s eyes are sharp and he’s out for blood. “How _dare_ you come into _my_ office and condemn me for not sharing private information with you! You have no right to judge me for keeping things to myself, you have no right to accuse me with information you shouldn’t even know!” The anger is fading from Cody’s features, but Fox is burning up, fury hot in his chest. “You barely even speak to me these days and you think you’re _entitled_ to come into my office and demand answers of me? How would you like it if I waltzed into the Negotiator and asked how your crush on that General of yours is going, if you’ve bedded him yet?” Rage sparks in Cody’s eyes and in one heartbeat to the next his fist is tangled in the fabric of Fox’s blacks as Fox’s back slams against the wall.

“Don’t speak about the General that way-” Cody snarls, but Fox scoffs and slaps his hand away, smoothing his blacks down where Cody’s grip had stretched them.

“Then get your head out of your ass, _Kote_ ,” Fox sneers, acid and bile bubbling in his veins as he shoves past Cody, their shoulders colliding none-too-gently. Fox snatches a datapad off of his desk and storms out, not sparing a glance to the cluster of troopers hovering in the hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wrote this in one day and it probably shows but today sucks so im posting it anyways. 
> 
> also i continue to have no idea how the military works and fox is an asshole (but we love him anyways)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cody's having a lot of feelings rn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: not really much, actually. the situation thus far is referenced but only vaguely

Cody is left staring numbly at the dingy wall as the sound of Fox’s angry footsteps fade from his hearing. He knows, down to his very bones, that he’s fucked up. The door creaks but Cody doesn’t move, even when he hears a familiar sigh.

“Oh, Cody…” Obi-Wan says softly, and Cody can feel his heart breaking. Obi-Wan doesn’t even sound disappointed in him, Force knows he deserves it, just… sad. Sympathetic. Cody keeps his back turned to Obi-Wan, some part of him scared that he’ll see disapproval written across the other man’s face. There’s another sigh, and Cody feels a hand settle on his shoulder, squeezing lightly. Dimly, Cody can hear the sound of mutters as the rest of the group hesitantly approaches the office.

“Kriff, that’s a lot of datapads,” Fives says incredulously. Cody flinches, pulling his shoulders up. He’d been too caught up in his head to pay attention to the piles of work crammed into the small room. Fox had been busy doing his job before Cody had stormed in and scared him off. He had so much to do and Cody had just forced him to abandon it.

“Commander.” The voice is tight and carefully controlled. Cody doesn’t have to look to know who it is. His shoulders slump and he lets Obi-Wan guide him to face the very pissed-off medic fuming in the office doorway.

“I know,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “Kriff, I know.”

“Do you?” Tooka snaps. “Do you really? You’ve barely seen Fox since the war began, you don’t know how he’s changed, how this war has taken a toll on him.” Each word twists the dagger in Cody’s heart further and he bows his head. “You haven’t seen how much hurt this whole thing has caused, how kriffing deep those wounds are.”

“Tooka,” Kix says reproachfully, but Cody shakes his head.

“No, they’re right. I let my anger get the best of me.”

“Are you going to go after Fox, then?”

“No,” Cody says, sighing heavily. “Fox has always run off to hide by himself when he gets upset, ever since we were tubies.” A bitter smile twists his lips. “He’d just up and disappear on us. The only person who could ever find him with any consistency was Thorn.” Tooka’s hackles seem to be going down, but they’re still very clearly displeased with him. Cody can’t bring himself to blame them. He feels the same way. “Fox needs some space for a while; he’ll come out when he’s ready.” Cody sighs again.

“We need to leave soon, Commander,” Obi-Wan says softly. Cody closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

“Yes, sir.” He opens his eyes, meeting Tooka’s gaze squarely. “I will find a way to make it up to him.” They eye him for a long moment, their eyes black voids, before nodding reluctantly.

“You’d kriffing better,” they grumble, crossing their arms over their chest. As Obi-Wan and Cody move to leave the room, Cody pauses and pats Tooka’s shoulder.

“Keep me updated?” he asks softly. Tooka bites their lip, eyes darting away, before they finally give him a short, sharp nod. “Thank you,” Cody murmurs, and then hurries to catch up with Obi-Wan.

“Well,” Fives says when Cody and General Kenobi leave. “That was a kriffing shitshow.”

“You aren’t wrong,” Anakin says from where he’s done impressively well in fading into the background thus far. Tooka sighs heavily, dragging their hand down their face. Fives nudges one of the datapads on the floor with his foot.

“Is it healthy for this guy to have so much work?” he asks dubiously. “Because this is… a lot,” he says as he looks around the room once again. He grabs a datapad off of the desk and powers it on curiously. And then squints. “Formation of Inter-stellar Tolls in the Lothal System?” he reads off incredulously. He and Anakin both turn to look at Tooka, who grimaces.

“Some Senators like to hand their work off to clones,” they say uncomfortably. “Fox insists that it all goes through him and only hands off a portion of it to the other Commanders.”

“They do what?” Anakin says, appalled. “That can’t be legal!” Tooka shrugs tightly.

“It is what it is.” They turn on their heel and start to walk away. “Come on, we can talk more in my office.” Fives sighs and follows Tooka through the winding corridors of the Senate Office Building. They pass surprisingly few people on the way - on Fox’s floor, there’s a number of aides clustered together, but after that, the only faces they encounter are clones’.

There’s a vod with shaggy, jaw-length hair and a scruffy beard hovering in the hall Tooka leads them to. He’s wearing Guard colors, but Fives can’t help but feel surprised at the other man’s appearance. It’s not that growing your hair out is  _ forbidden _ \- Tup’s hair is well past this vod’s length, obviously - but Fives has always had the impression that Commander Fox is a by-the-books, stick-up-his-shebs Commander. Even knowing what he knows now - which still hasn’t quite sunk in yet - the glimpse he’d seen of the man had done little to persuade him otherwise.

The man perks up when he spots them, turning to face them, revealing the helmet he’s holding. Fives’ eyebrows shoot up and he’s glad he’s wearing his bucket. He knows that wing design. He’d seen it when he was finally freed from the drunk tank by Commander Thorn, who had scolded the shinies that had dragged him in. “Tooka,” Thorn says, sounding relieved. His eyes dart to the 501st, lingering on Anakin. “What happened? You just said that Fox ran off.”

“Office,” Tooka says flatly, gesturing to the door Thorn is standing in front of. He steps aside with a sheepish look on his face. Tooka pushes the door open and strides into their office. Thorn holds the door open for them to enter, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him when the whole group is settled. “So,” Tooka starts from where they’re sitting in what’s clearly their own chair. Fives and Kix are both leaning against a table, shoulders awkwardly smushed together, while Anakin is sitting on the only stool in the room. Thorn is leaning against the wall across from Fives, eyes focused entirely on Tooka.

“Well?” Thorn asks, leg bouncing with anxious energy.

“I was filling in them,” Tooka jerks their head in the 501st’s direction. “About Fox’s situation.” Thorn stiffens.

“What?” he demands. “Why would you tell them? You know that Fox-”

“They’re taking over the investigation,” Tooka says flatly. Thorn’s jaw drops.

“Tooka!” he protests, an anger in his voice that Fives has never heard from the easy-going Commander. Tooka narrows their eyes.

“We don’t have the resources-”

“ _ You _ don’t, I do-”

“No.” Tooka snaps. “Fox needs you here, not running around doing off-the-record work.” Thorn scowls and crosses his arms over his chest, looking away from Tooka. They sigh. “Thorn…”

“I’m guessing Fox found out?” he says instead. Fives grimaces at the reminder of what had happened. The look on Cody’s face when he heard Fox’s name, the yelling they had heard from the hall… it hadn’t been pretty.

“...Cody found out and ran off to confront Fox,” Tooka admits reluctantly. Thorn jerks to look at them with wide eyes.

“Are you kriffing-”

“Uh,” Anakin cuts in awkwardly. Both Guard members freeze and turn to look at the 501st, having clearly forgotten that they were still in the room. “I thought you were going to fill us in on the details…?”

“Right,” Tooka says, clearing their throat. It’s hard to tell in the dim lighting, but Fives is pretty sure their cheeks are pink. Thorn settles back in to his spot leaning against the wall. “So, Fox came down to the medbay initially complaining of nausea and fatigue...”

Cody doesn’t know how long he’s been staring out the window when Obi-Wan finds him. He feels like he’s been staring into the dark void of space for hours, but all the same it seems like he only just sat down. There’s just too much for him to think about, his head full of cluttered thoughts and memories.

“Fox was always the clever one in our batch,” Cody says before Obi-Wan can speak. There’s a pause, before Obi-Wan’s eerily quiet footsteps approach Cody. Obi-Wan sits down on the bench next to him. Cody doesn’t look over at him, just keeps his gaze trained out the window. “Wolffe was feral, Ponds was chill, Bly was a sap, and Fox was clever.”

“What about you?” Obi-Wan asks, his voice soft. Cody lets out a bitter chuckle.

“I was the wild-card.” He runs a hand through his hair. “My temper was worse than Wolffe’s, most of the time. He huffs and grumbles, but he never really snapped until our vode were hurt.” He’s quiet for a long moment as he searches for the right words. “Jango was the one who named me.” Cody is no Jedi, but he fancies that he can feel Obi-Wan’s surprise at that statement.

“I didn’t realize he interacted with you,” Obi-Wan ventures hesitantly. Cody snorts, old bitterness rising to the surface.

“He trained the early batches, but we were never  _ his _ .”  _ Not like Boba _ , the words hanging heavily in the air for all that Cody has not spoken them. “My name - it’s not Cody. Or well,” Cody amends at the distress he’s picking up from his General. “It is, but it’s not what I was  _ named _ . The name Jango gave me was  _ Kote _ .”

“Glory,” Cody’s Jedi repeats softly. It’s not a question, but Cody nods anyways.

“I picked a fight with one of the Nulls - Jaing, I think - because they were giving Bly shit about something. The Nulls - they’re wild, too hard for the Kaminoans to control. Vicious. I knew I was outmatched and I attacked him anyways.” The huff he lets out at that is probably somewhere close to self-deprecating, but Cody can’t bring himself to care. “It’s how I got my scar. Jango stepped in before he could do anything worse, declared me  _ Kote _ in front of all the vode who were there watching.” Cody startles as he feels fingers brush against his scar.

“Glory suits you,” Obi-Wan says as he traces the scar with light fingers, his expression soft. Cody tears his gaze away, forces himself to look out the window again before his mind starts to slip down that forbidden path.

“Fox was the smallest one in our batch,” he says instead, the image of his brother’s shocked face when Cody had confronted him appearing in his mind’s eye. “Too short, too skinny. There was a risk for a few years where he was on the verge of getting decommissioned for it. So he trained his mind.” Cody had been on the smaller side too, at first, but where he had started putting on muscle easily, Fox simply… hadn’t.

“He looked for weaknesses to target, figured out how to play dirty in fights, started reading everything he could get his hands on. We argued a lot,” Cody grimaces, memories of the numerous fights the two of them had gotten into over the years flashing through his head. “I was too reckless, too ambitious, and Fox liked to play it safe.” He sighs.

“You miss him,” Obi-Wan observes, tilting his head.

“I do,” Cody agrees, his heart aching. “He drives me up a wall, but he’s still my brother.” He bites his lip, looking down at his hands. “...I neglected that,” he continues quietly, voice barely a whisper. “He didn’t- he didn’t think he could tell us what happened.”

“It seems like he didn’t feel like he could tell anyone about it until he absolutely had to,” the other man points out, but Cody shrugs half-heartedly.

“It’s… On Kamino, your squad is everything. You’re the last line of defense for each other. It doesn’t matter how much you bicker, your squad will always support you against the trainers or the Kaminoans. Fox would run off, Wolffe would go pick fights, but at the end of the day it’s your squad that you seek comfort in.” He’s quiet for a long minute. He can remember climbing into Wolffe’s pod after nightmares, of Fox quietly reading one of Bly’s holonovels aloud when the younger’s eye was swollen shut. He remembers Ponds arguing with one of their instructors to let Wolffe go to the medbay for his busted ankle, despite Wolffe’s protests. Fox doesn’t have that same easy trust in them anymore, though, and it hurts. It sits wrong in Cody’s chest, the thought that they’d allowed their brother to drift so far away that he no longer feels like he can fall back on them for support.

“So what are you going to do to?” Obi-Wan asks simply, and Cody’s head jerks up. His Jedi gives him a small smile, a little sad, but encouraging. Absorbing everything that Cody had told him and just accepting it, urging him to look to the future and to what he’ll do rather than dwell on the past. Something in Cody’s heart cracks and he feels tears start to drip down his cheeks even as he gives Obi-Wan a wobbly smile.

“I’m going to remind him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> things have kinda?? gone to shit a little in my personal life, so i'm writing Even More hurt/comfort than before. this isn't my best work but im also having too many emotions abt cody and fox to care rn
> 
> anyways! fox has a whole support network he is completely oblivious to the existence of and there are very much going to be tears when he finds out


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: discussion of abortion and implied/referenced rape

Carrion exhales slowly and sets the datapad aside, one hand reaching up to massage his aching temples. He’s stumbled across yet another dead end in his research, putting him back at square one in the whole process. He knows why Tooka encouraged him to do the holonet side of researching, of course - his slicing skills have always been above-par amongst the medics - but it’s still a migraine and a half digging through all the misinformation and uselessness while trying to cover his tracks every step of the way.

“Is something wrong?” A familiar voice says from behind him and Carrion jolts, scrambling to turn and face them, slamming his elbow against the table in the process.

“S-sir!” he stammers, eyes wide. His General stands in the doorway of the ‘private’ medbay that Carrion’s office is a part of, Commander Bly a step behind her. Bly looks faintly amused, although it’s harder to tell with the helmet, and Aayla just has her usual warm smile. “Nothing’s wrong!” She arches a brow. Carrion feels a bead of sweat drip down his neck. He knows that Kix has somehow managed to rope a squad from the 501st into the situation, but that still doesn’t mean Tooka will take it kindly if Carrion spills without permission.

“I could feel your stress from two decks away, Lieutenant,” Aayla remarks dryly. Carrion winces.

“Sorry, sir. I didn’t realize my shielding had fallen.” Her other brow joins the first.

“It hasn’t. I’m hearing it  _ through _ your shields.” Bly straightens up, now much more alert, and Carrion sinks down into his chair. Kriff. If Bly gets it in his head that something’s wrong or that it’s affecting Aayla negatively, there’s no way he’ll drop it.  _ Nobody _ can fuss like Bly can.

“It’s… a delicate medical situation,” he hedges. Carrion can  _ feel _ the flat look Bly is giving him, even through the helmet. He winces.

“Generally that doesn’t stop you from telling your General,” Aayla points out.

“I would tell you, if it was one of your men.” Her eyes sharpen and Carrion realizes, dismayed, that now  _ she’s _ on the case too. Maybe Aayla isn’t as bad as Bly, but that’s because nobody is worse than Bly when it comes to being a mother tooka - Aayla is certainly more dogged when it comes to investigating things that aren’t really their business, and unfortunately for Carrion, this happens to fall under that criteria..

“So it’s not one of our men?” she presses, taking a step into the room. Carrion’s eyes dart to the other door in the room before Bly steps in front of it as well. He gulps.

“...I’m consulting?” he says hesitantly. He doesn’t even need to look at Bly to pick up on the ‘unimpressed’ vibes his Commander is radiating. Before either of them have a chance to retort, a faint  _ meow _ echoes through the room. Aayla and Bly both startle but Carrion lights up at the familiar sound, snatching up his datapad. Sure enough, there’s a message from Tooka in the CMO groupchat. Relief hits Carrion like a wave.

**Tooka (CT-8932):** Torrent Company’s Alpha squad is handling the investigation into the sexual assault of a member of the Guard. Kix is currently on-planet and helping me conduct research.

Carrion immediately sends them a comm. He’ll unpack the situation with Torrent later, when he doesn’t have his Commander trying to stare him into compliance.

**Carrion (CT-3974):** Can I please tell my General and Commander about all this? They sort of have me cornered, so a prompt response would be appreciated.

**Tooka (CT-8932):** Sure, why the kark not. Go wild.

Carrion’s eyebrows shoot up at Tooka’s message, but he’s not about to look a gift eopie in the mouth. He powers off the datapad and looks back up at Aayla and Bly. Bly has his arms crossed over his chest, tapping his foot impatiently. Carrion winces. Right.

“I was getting the all-clear to read you two in,” he explains unhelpfully. Somehow, Bly seems even more unimpressed than before. It’d probably be impressive if it wasn’t directed at Carrion. He opens his mouth to explain, but hesitates. It’s just… a lot. It’s barely even sunk in for  _ Carrion _ , and he’s been doing in-depth research about abortion for well over a week! The look on Aayla’s face softens and she places a hand on his shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze.

“Take as much time as you need,” she says softly. Carrion closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He tries to shore up his shields half-heartedly, but his mind is in too much turmoil for him to find much success.

“One of Tooka’s troopers turned up pregnant,” he explains quietly. “Tooka suspected foul play.” Bly inhales sharply.

“They think-?!” Carrion nods grimly.

“A squad from the 501st is running the investigation, apparently. All the CMOs are trying to figure out how to safely terminate the pregnancy without tipping off the Kaminoans.” He gestures to his datapad. “Tooka - and Kix, I suppose - are going through archives on Coruscant and I’ve been doing the bulk of the holonet research.”

“By yourself?” Aayla asks, sounding concerned. Carrion grimaces.

“The others aren’t good enough slicers to cover their tracks,” he explains. “Tooka is decent, and so is Kix, but they’re both on Coruscant right now, going through physical records and dealing with the investigation and whatnot that Kix set up.”

“This is pretty heavy security for research.” Bly sounds dubious and Carrion swallows hard. He  _ really _ doesn’t want to dig into the whole Jedi portion of this disaster. It still sits uneasily in his own chest. He doesn’t think he can handle Aayla’s shock and horror or Bly’s prickly defensiveness right now.

“Carrion…” Aayla says softly, crouching down so that she’s eye level with him. He looks away, stomach turning as Tooka’s accusations burn in his mind. Her fingers skim his cheek as she brushes strands of black hair out of his face. “Is it something that might affect our men?”  _ No _ , Carrion wants to say, but the lie sticks in the back of his throat. He ducks his head, shoulders pulling up. He can’t lie to his General’s face, not about this. He hears Aayla sigh. “Is it an immediate threat?” That- that, at least, Carrion can answer.

“No, sir.” She sighs again, petting the top of his head.

“It can wait until you’re ready to tell me, then,” Aayla murmurs, voice sad. Carrion bites his lip, guilt clawing at his insides. Aayla doesn’t deserve this. She’s an amazing General, coming down to the medbay to visit injured vode after battles, never putting herself above them, always right in the thick of things just like a vod. She should know, know that one of her fellow  _ Jetii _ was probably a rapist.

But Carrion is a weak man, and he can’t bring himself to tell her. He keeps his eyes trained on the floor until the door has long since closed behind her and Bly.

Fox can’t really remember how he ended up on the roof of the building. It’s connected to the Senate Office Building, but right now he couldn’t tell you how to save his life. His head is bursting at the seams with static and tumultuous thoughts, Cody’s voice still ringing in his ears.

It’s an indication of just how distracted he is that he doesn’t realize that he’s not alone until his companion speaks. “Commander Fox?” a soft female voice says, and Fox’s head jerks up. Senator Amidala is leaning out of a window overlooking the rooftop, her brows furrowed together and her usual Senate-garb nowhere in sight. Suddenly Fox is painfully aware that he is in only his blacks, eyes red and tears still dripping down his cheeks. He hastily wipes his eyes on the sleeve of his blacks, going to stand.

“My apologies, Senator,” he says, voice rough. “I’ll just-”

“You’re fine, Commander,” she says with a smile, and then she’s climbing out the window -  _ what the kriff? _ Fox thinks to himself, feeling faint at the security  _ nightmare _ he’s looking at- and walking over to his side. She smooths out the loose fabric of her skirt and sits down next to him. Amidala looks up at Fox, her hair in an uncharacteristically simple bun. “Is something troubling you?”

“I’m fine, ma’am-” Fox starts, but she cuts him off.

“With all due respect, Commander, you’ve quite clearly been crying. That generally doesn’t count as ‘fine’,” Amidala says dryly. He winces.

“Sorry, ma’am.” She waves him off.

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” she says. “But if you’d like an open ear, I’d be happy to listen.”

“I couldn’t possibly trouble you with that, ma’am,” Fox protests, the very thought grating against every fiber of his being. Senators don’t just- just  _ listen _ to clones complain about stupid arguments between them. She has to be joking.

“It’s no trouble at all, Commander,” she insists. Fox is frantically searching his mind for a polite way to say no in this bizarre situation and is coming up short. Kriff. Senator Amidala might be one of the better Senators on Coruscant, but the last thing Fox wants to do is tip the scales and cause that well of goodwill to dry up.

“It really is nothing, Senator,” Fox tries, getting an arched brow in response. It’s clear that she doesn’t believe him in the slightest. He curses internally. Have his lying skills really fallen so far since he left Kamino? “It was just a foolish argument.”

“I doubt it was truly foolish if it’s affecting you so deeply,” Amidala points out, her eyes sharp. Fox cringes.

“It’s just- my brother was mad because I didn’t tell him something,” he mumbles, resigning himself to his fate. Amidala has made it abundantly clear that she - for whatever Force-forsaken reason - wants to listen to him and nothing less than a hard no will stop her. She makes a sound of realization and Fox’s eyes snap over to her, watching her assessingly.

“My older sister and I would often argue over similar things,” she says, a small smile on her face as she gazes up at Coruscant’s muggy skies. “She wanted privacy, and I was determined not to give her a sliver of it,” Amidala says wryly. It echoes Fox’s situation so perfectly and he’s suddenly struck with the jarring dissonance that a mere clone could ever share experiences with someone as powerful as a Senator.

“He stormed into my office already seeing red and- I didn’t even know he was on the  _ planet _ until then.” The words spill out of Fox’s mouth like a mouthful of Kamino’s seawater, and he doesn’t know why he’s telling her so much but he thinks it might be the shock.

“Your brother… he isn’t stationed here on Coruscant?” Senator Amidala asks, glancing over at him with warm brown eyes.

“No, I’m the only one of my batchmates here,” Fox says, the hole in his chest aching like it hasn’t had in months, since he accepted that it was fate for him to drift so far away from his brothers.

“Batchmates?” she asks curiously. Fox startles - he forgot that people didn’t know about how he and his vode were raised. 

“They’re like… nat-born siblings, more or less,” he says cautiously, but Amidala just nods, accepting the new information. “My brothers are usually on the frontlines, so they’re rarely even near Coruscant. I don’t- I don’t know if he was even going to tell me he was here if he hadn’t come up to my office like he did,” Fox confesses, heart twisting painfully.

“You think he’d do something like that?” Amidala asks, surprised. Fox shrugs, shoulders tight.

“I… I don’t know,” Fox says, voice quiet. “I don’t think so, but… my brothers don’t like me very much,” he admits. “I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t be that surprised if they hid their leave to avoid having to see me.” The thought hurts, but Fox has come to terms with how things are, so he pushes it aside and ignores the gaping loneliness hollowed out in his chest.

“Really?” she says, sounding shocked. “Why the stars would they not like you?” Fox’s head snaps up and he looks at her with something approaching incredulity. Fox doesn’t try hard to hide his brusqueness even around Senators, and he knows he comes off as cold to even his vode in the Guard. Around Senator Amidala, who the Guard feel comfortable enough to relax around, the contrast should be even more obvious.

“I’m… rather uptight, ma’am,” he says, still feeling off-kilter. “Particularly about rules and regulations.” She huffs, waving a hand in the air dismissively.

“Nonsense, you’re just doing your job, Commander.” Fox shifts in his spot uncomfortably. “You clearly care deeply about your men, and unfortunately the Senate places much value on appearances. Your strictness is another way of protecting them.” Fox tenses. He feels exposed, even more than just having his face bare and wearing just his blacks. It’s like she found the weak points in his armor and went right for them. It’s… uncannily like what Fox does.

“...Regardless, they still don’t enjoy my company,” he finally manages to say, tearing his gaze away from the Senator to look down at the traffic below. “I’m not particularly personable, and my seriousness tends to be a downer.” He purses his lips as he remembers Wolffe slurring that phrase at him drunkenly, not too long into the war.

“Then they are the ones being foolish,” Senator Amidala declares confidently. Fox’s jaw drops. He can’t- The thought of Cody, Bly, full blown  _ Marshal Commanders _ , being  _ foolish _ is- it’s  _ absurd _ , is what it is, and Fox can’t believe he’s hearing it. Then again, she doesn’t have enough information to know better, to realize just who she is talking about.

“Ma’am, Cody-” Fox protests, and her eyebrows shoot up.

“Commander Cody? He’s one of your batchmates?” she says, surprised, before her expression twists into a frown. “I can’t imagine him doing such a thing,” she half-mutters, brows furrowed. Fox flinches before he can catch himself. “Not that I don’t believe you, Commander!” Amidala rushes to assure him, eyes wide and earnest. “I’m just surprised. You two seem quite similar, it’s a shock that you two don’t get along.”

“Cody and I have always clashed,” Fox admits, looking off at the sharp peaks and skyscrapers that make up Coruscant’s horizon. “We’re too similar in some ways, too different in others.”

“Is he the one you argued with today?” Senator Amidala asks, her eyes sharp. Fox can’t quite hide the cringe he makes at the reminder of what had unfolded not even an hour ago. “He was.” There’s really no point in denying it, so Fox nods reluctantly.

“He was mad that I did not tell him of an… injury I recieved,” Fox hedges, stomach twisting as he remembers what is hidden within his body. “It’s not as if he just yelled at me,” he says at Amidala’s disapproving expression, the instinctive urge to defend his batchmate rising. “I retaliated. I… may have said some cruel things.” His face twists into a grimace. He knows just how sensitive a topic Cody’s crush on his General is to his brother. He’s not the hopeless romantic like Bly is, content mooning over his General from a distance, nor does he have the odd sort of resignation that Ponds carries himself with around his own General.

Kote has always been too passionate for his own good, and that certainly didn’t stop when he fell in love.

“Sometimes we say things in the heat of anger,” Amidala agrees easily. It’s not a condemnation, nor is it an assurance. It’s a simple acknowledgement, and somehow that sits easier in Fox’s chest.

“Why are we doing this again?” Hardcase complains to the ceiling as he flops onto his back with a groan. Unsurprisingly, the ceiling doesn’t respond. Even less unsurprisingly, Dogma does.

“We have a mission to search through these records,” the younger vod reminds him with a deep frown, his brows scrunched together. “You shouldn’t be slacking off.” Hardcase waves him off, closing his eyes to try and ease the headache he’s picked up from reading lines and lines of text.

“It’s not like the records are going anywhere,” he replies dismissively. Hardcase cracks an eye open to see Tup watching the two of them with a bemused smile on his face. He has a pile of files in his lap, a scribbled-on piece of flimsi at his side.

For all that there aren’t many Jedi, there’s a hell of a lot of records for them to go through. There’s the Generals returning to Coruscant for leave or to visit the Council, of course, but then there’s also the Jedi who remain at the Temple full time, and the karking  _ secret Jedi spy division _ that Hardcase cannot believe nobody told him about. How could they just  _ not mention _ something that cool? Either way, General Kenobi had apparently had to pull some strings to get  _ those _ , and then ended up dumping some truly  _ massive _ files on them that were apparently the various Jedi Corps’ deployment records. That bit Hardcase was less than thrilled about.

Hardcase pauses as he realizes that Dogma still hasn’t protested Hardcase’s last dismissal. He sits up abruptly, glancing over at his vod.

Dogma has his nose buried in flimsi, which is about what Hardcase was expecting, but he seems… off. More subdued than normal. Actually, now that Hardcase is thinking about it, Dogma’s earlier objections were much weaker than usual. He frowns. He’ll talk to Tup before he does anything, he decides. Dogma’s batchmate is much better equipped to tell if something really is off or if Hardcase is just imagining things.

Mind made up, Hardcase gives a short nod before picking his own pile of flimsi up. He glances at it and grimaces as he sees the Agricorps label. Nevertheless, he picks up his pen and gets to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the fox and padme scene did NOT want to cooperate and im starting to realize i have a Thing for people staring off into the distance while they have heartfelt existential crisises. on an unrelated note, i am once again giving my ocs an exorbitant amount of screentime.
> 
> (i swear the plot will make a reappearence soon, everybody just insisted on having So Many Emotions that we had to take a little introspective detour or two)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the guard probably need therapy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: nothing serious, a few mentions of drinking/references to sex here, a sprinkling of the complete and utter lack of rights the clones have there,
> 
> (credit for a lot of the search history stuff goes to the vox discord!!)

“Sorry about… all this,” Tooka says, grimacing as they gesture vaguely behind them. “I was hoping I could give you guys more to work with today, but…”

“We understand,” General Skywalker quickly assures the medic. “What you’ve told us so far is a good start.” Fives watches Tooka shrug unhappily, a deep crease between their brows. Thorn had left some time ago, with a comment about tracking Fox back down, and Fives has spent the meantime turning the new information over in his head while Tooka and Kix talked medical  _ osik _ . He’s pretty sure that Rex and Anakin were doing something similar- Rex has been unusually quiet ever since the reveal, and Anakin keeps shooting the blonde clone worried looks.

“Still,” Tooka says, running a hand through their silver hair. “I can key you into the Guard systems if you want to go through that, but your clearance level will still apply.”

“That’s fine,” Anakin says with a wave of his hand. “The Chancellor boosted my clearance level a few months ago for a mission.” Tooka shoots him an incredulous look at that, and Fives’ brows furrow. Anakin picks up on it too, lowering his hand as a small frown flickers across his face. “What?”

“Nothing,” they say, shaking their head. “Just an odd thought. I’ll go ahead and add you three, then.”

“Two,” Rex interrupts, and they all turn to look at him. Tooka’s brows scrunch together in confusion, but Fives can only feel shock and something dark twisting in his chest. Is Rex taking him off the mission? Did he do something wrong?

“Captain?” the medic questions, eyes flickering between Rex and Anakin.

“I’m taking myself off the mission,” Rex says calmly. Fives’ jaw drops.

“What?” he splutters. “Why?!” Rex exhales heavily, loud enough to be audible through his helmet.

“I’m compromised,” he says flatly. Anakin straightens up.

“Rex-” he starts, but the Captain barrels forward, ignoring the General.

“I’m an adopted member of Comm- of Fox’s batch. I can’t be objective for this investigation, and thusly will be stepping back. Fives will be in charge of the mission,” Rex says, tilting his head in Fives’ direction.

“Sir-” Fives says helplessly, feeling like somebody has kicked his legs out from under him. It’s a sensation he’s unfortunately familiar with, the lurch in his stomach and then the feeling of nothingness beneath him, before his back slams into the mat and reality comes crashing back in. First the news about Commander Fox, now Rex pulling out of the mission? “What about the others? They’ll want to know why I’m leading the investigation now.”

“I’ll figure it out,” Rex says, in that particular tone of voice that means he’s dug in his heels and won’t be budged. Kriff.

“Well,” Tooka says after an uncomfortably long silence, their voice full of false cheeriness. “Here you go,  _ sir _ !” They drop a datapad into his hands. It feels heavier than it should as they tap the screen a few times with a nail. “All the Guard’s data, right at your fingertips!”

Fives looks down at the black screen and desperately regrets his life choices.

“What the kriff is wrong with these people?” Fives mumbles under his breath incredulously.

“Hm?” Jesse made a vague questioning noise from where he was laying face-down on his bunk, his face squashed into the thin pillow.

“Here.” Fives holds out the datapad and Jesse groans as he pushes himself upright, the red creases on his face making Hardcase snicker. Jesse grabs the datapad and glances at it, his eyebrows shooting up.

“What the hell is this?”

“The Guard’s search history,” Fives says drily.

“Seriously?” Jesse starts to scroll. 

**_how to dispose of a body_ **

**_Can property be charged with crimes?_ **

**_How to reprogram police droids to be less annoying_ **

**_can i legally drink if im ten chronologically but in my twenties physically_ **

“What the kark is even going on with the Guard?” Jesse mutters. Hardcase clambers into the other man’s bunk, ignoring his yelp, and looks at the datapad.

“Just wait, it only gets weirder,” Fives says wryly, leaning back in his bunk to watch.

**_WHY DO NEWBORNS LOOK UNCOOKED?!?!??!_ **

**_what’s a gender and how do i stop it_ **

**_What is the gay agenda and how do I sign up for it_ **

**_Best dumpster diving spots in my area_ **

Hardcase is outright cackling, too distracted to stop Tup from snatching the datapad from his hands and settling on the floor just out of reach. Tup clears his throat and starts reading aloud.

**_Is it possible to rappel down the senate building_ **

**_is it trespassing if im not legally sentient_ **

**_Do the buildings around the senate have security cameras_ **

**_How to disable security cameras_ **

**_how to explain to the commander why you’re disabling security cameras_ **

**_how to have a fake relationship with someone to sell your fake cover story about shutting down the security cameras_ **

“Isn’t this an invasion of privacy?” Dogma says anxiously as the rest of the squad laughs their shebs off. Fives snorts and waves him off.

“Nah, Tooka added me to the Guard systems so it’s fair game.”

“Tooka?” Some of the tension in Dogma’s shoulders eases and he cocks his head as he looks at Fives curiously. It's more endearing than it should have any right to be.

“The Guard’s CMO,” Fives explains. “Very sharp tongue, but I can’t blame ‘em if the Guard has done even half the things they’ve been searching up.”

**_how much caffeine can I ingest before death_ **

**_i wanna be gay and do crime but I'm part of law enforcement, how do I make these things work together?_ **

**_how to convince your idiot commander he needs to actually sleep_ **

**_how to tell a tooka apart from an opossum_ **

**_how to kindly tell your brother he's a slut_ **

**_how to hide opossums in the vents_ **

**_minimum amount of sleep humans can function on_ **

**_how to get opossums OUT of the vents_ **

“Does… does the Guard have a possum problem?” Dogma asks hesitantly, setting off a new round of raucous laughter from Hardcase and Jesse.

“Apparently,” Fives says dryly. “I’m pretty sure the caf and sleep ones are Commander Fox’s, though. Tooka spent a good thirty minutes bitching about how little sleep he gets and his ridiculous caffeine intake.”

“That’s because Tooka is right,” Kix says primly as he walks in. “They’re pretty sure Fox never gets more than six hours of sleep in one stretch, and considering the state of his office I’m inclined to agree.” He takes in the sight in front of him - Jesse and Hardcase, red-faced from laughing and still giggling as they lean on each other, Tup sitting in the middle of the floor with a datapad that’s clearly not standard-issue, Dogma hovering nearby, and Fives’ smirk as he lounges and watching the chaos. “What’s got you lot all worked up, anyways?” he asks as he goes to his own bunk, eyeing Fives suspiciously. Fives looks back at him with an innocent expression.

“Tooka gave me access to the Guard’s digital records,” Fives explains, choosing not to acknowledge Kix’s suspicion in the slightest. “I found their search history and it’s an absolute disaster.” Kix arches a brow and Tup obligingly holds the ‘pad out for him. He takes it.

**_is it possible for caf to actually run in someones veins_ **

**_How to tie somebody to a hospital bed_ **

**_what’s this ‘bondage’ thing??_ **

“Poor Tooka,” Kix says, looking incredibly amused. “I have a feeling the Guard is a lot more chaotic than we gave them credit for.”

“No kidding,” Tup says as he leans back against Fives’ legs. “Some of this stuff is pure crazy.” Fives smiles as he watches his squad joke and laugh, but there’s a heaviness to his heart that he can’t shake.

As much of a jokester as Fives can be, he wouldn’t hand over confidential information just for a few laughs. He’d already skimmed through the search history, pulling out the worrying parts and the searches that made that little voice in the back of his head sit up in alarm, until the chaotic and amusing results were all that was left. Well, that and the boringly normal searches, but nobody cared about those.

The glimpses he’d gotten of some of those searches, though… It makes the bad feeling in his stomach twist uncomfortably. Some part of him just  _ knows _ that this is going to end up being a lot bigger than just Fox.

His squad deserved some levity and cheerfulness, though, after spending the entire day combing through records until they’d all gotten more than a few papercuts. The least Fives could do was give them that.

Tooka needs a drink. Possibly two. Or three. They rub their temples as they check their comm  _ again _ . Still no messages. Fox had run off  _ hours _ ago and still not resurfaced. Maybe they’d be impressed if they weren’t so damn  _ worried _ .

“Tooka?” They jump and whip around to find the annoyance in question hovering in the doorway of their office, an anxious look on his face.

“There you are!” they snap, slapping themselves upside the head internally when they see Fox flinch. Tooka hustles Fox over to their chair and pushes him down, taking the less-comfortable stool across from him. “Where the kriff have you  _ been _ , di’kut?”

“On the roof,” Fox mumbles, not meeting Tooka’s eyes. There’s a tension to his shoulders that makes Tooka’s neck hurt just looking at it, and they decide not to press it. “I left my comm in the office, when…” he trails off, and Tooka’s mind jumps to the image of Fox storming out of his office, a thunderous look on his face but with tears already threatening to spill from his eyes.

“...I  _ suppose _ that’s an acceptable excuse,” they say instead with a sniff, crossing their arms over their chest. Fox relaxes some, his lips quirking up into something that might vaguely resemble a smile if you squinted. And needed glasses.

“Are… Did the 501st leave?” Fox asks quietly, and Tooka grimaces.

“For today,” they offer, and Fox seems to curl in on himself. They sigh. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize Cody was there when I told them.”

“It’s fine,” Fox says, like a liar. Tooka snorts.

“That’s the biggest load of banthashit I’ve ever heard,” they say flatly. “I’m not going to push - not today at least,” they correct, before Fox gets any ideas in his little medbay-avoiding head. “I’m just worried.” Fox’s shoulders slump.

“There’s not really anything I can do about it now,” he says with that deep resignation that Tooka loathes with every fiber of their being. Tooka bites their lip, contemplating what they’re about to do. They really don’t want to talk about the investigation to Fox right now, not when it looks like he’ll shatter into a million pieces if someone presses down on the wrong spot too hard. Still, it might bring their Commander some comfort, and Force knows the man needs all he can get.

“Captain Rex is no longer part of the investigation,” Tooka finally says, and Fox stiffens.

“Did something happen?”

“He said he couldn’t be objective since the two of you are adoptive batchmates and pulled himself off the mission.” Fox’s eyes widen, something so raw and vulnerable in them that it makes Tooka want to squirm uncomfortably. 

“He… really did that?” Tooka just nods, their throat feeling tight as they look at the sheer bafflement on Fox’s face. He just looks so utterly stunned at the thought that his ties to Rex were enough to make the Captain feel like he couldn’t be objective. Tooka’s not  _ super _ close with their batchmates these days - Whiplash is off doing some covert ops  _ osik _ that would probably give Tooka heart palpitations if they ever found out the details, Burst is in the Outer Rim somewhere, and Tooka is pretty sure Kes is actually allergic to comming people for anything not related to piloting - but they still know that the others would be seeing red if something half as bad as Fox’s situation had happened to Tooka. Granted, they probably wouldn’t have the rationality to actually  _ remove _ themselves from the mission like Rex had, but that was because they were all impulsive idiots who wouldn’t have survived cadethood without Tooka to patch them back up.

“...You should go rest,” Tooka finally says after the silence has dragged on for minutes. Fox jolts as he’s jarred out of his thoughts, blinking several times before his eyes manage to focus on Tooka. “I’ll make sure to let you know whenever Torrent is in the barracks, alright?” Fox nods absently as he stands, swaying on his feet. Tooka grimaces, desperately wishing they could just sedate the  _ shabuir _ and be done with it, but unfortunately waking up in the medbay would just stress Fox out  _ more _ , and there was no way Tooka could haul his heavy  _ shebs _ all the way to the barracks. They sigh, typing out a message to Thorn on their ‘pad as Fox slowly makes his way to the door.

“Tooka?” Fox says, hand on the doorknob. Tooka blinks and looks up from their datapad, startled. “Thank you.”

Tooka is left gaping until long after Fox’s footsteps have faded down the hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this feels wildly subpar and filler-y but tooka's pov hit the spot so. im posting.  
> (impulse control? idk her)
> 
> misc fun facts ig:
> 
> -tooka's temper was forged in the hellfire that was their batch and everybody on tooka's bad side blames them for it
> 
> -whiplash is technically the only other oc of mine that already existed, but Kes has managed to tumble his way into becoming a character of his own, oops


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: implied/referenced rape/non-con, ongoing horrible treatment of clones, referenced character death
> 
> (also hell yeah 69 comments)

**_CC-2224_ ** _ has created  _ _ Important _

**_CC-2224_ ** _ has added  _ **_CC-5052, CT-7567, CC-3636,_ ** _ and  _ **_CC-6454_ ** _ to  _ _ Important _

**_CC-2224_ ** _ has changed  _ **_CC-2224_ ** _ to  _ **_Kote_ **

  
  


**Kote:** We need to talk about Fox.

**CC-5052:** Uh, what’s with the new chat all of a sudden??

**CC-3636:** whatd that shabuir do this time.

**CT-7567:** He didn’t do anything.

**CC-5052:** Huh?

**CC-6454:** alright, hold up

**CC-6454:** first of all, these numbers need to go, they’re making my eyes bleed

**CC-6454:** second of all, cody using proper punctuation is one thing, but rex???

**_CC-6454_ ** _ changed  _ **_CT-7567_ ** _ to  _ **_Rexy_ **

**_CC-6454_ ** _ changed  _ **_CC-5052_ ** _ to  _ **_Bly_ **

**_CC-6454_ ** _ changed  _ **_CC-3636_ ** _ to  _ **_Wolffe_ **

**_CC-6454_ ** _ changed  _ **_CC-6454_ ** _ to  _ **_Ponds_ **

**Ponds:** there.

**Ponds:** in all seriousness, though, what the hell happened

**Kote:** Fox doesn’t think we have his back anymore.

**Bly:** I mean…

**Kote:** Figuratively, Bly. Don’t be a di’kut.

**Bly:** Wow okay

**Rexy:** Fox got in over his head and didn’t tell anyone until it landed him in the medbay.

**Ponds:** got in over his head?? what happened??

**Kote:** That’s classified.

**Kote:** What matters is that he didn’t feel like he could come to us for help

**Kote:** Or even that he could tell us

**Rexy:** And you really proved him wrong, didn’t you Kote?

**Kote:** Rex.

**Bly:** ???

**Kote:** ...My temper took over when I found out

**Ponds:** ah. enough said.

**Wolffe:** if he didnt tell you, then how the kriff did you find out about this osik?

**Rexy:** He overheard Tooka talking about it while making a report.

**Bly:** Tooka??

**Ponds:** yeah, y’know, wolffe’s natural enemy, the guard’s chief medic, that tooka

**Bly:** I know who they are, di’kut, I’m just surprised at the amount of shit they’re dealing with right now

**Wolffe:** what’s that supposed to mean?

**Wolffe:** and kark off ponds, i get along JUST FINE with tooka

**Bly:** Well, Tooka reached out to my CMO a little while ago for help researching something

**Bly:** Carrion didn’t give much in the way of details, but he did say Torrent was involved in an investigation?

**Wolffe:** rex?

**Rexy:** Yeah, Fives is running the investigation

**Rexy:** But we’ve gotten off topic

**Kote:** Right.

**Kote:** We’ve been leaving Fox out, intentionally or not, and the distance we’ve caused has hurt him

**Wolffe:** i don't know if you noticed but some of us are busy fighting in a war, kote.

**Ponds:** still not an excuse, vod

**Bly:** Ponds is right, we find the time to message each other, and we actually get to see each other in person sometimes.

**Ponds:** ...and fox hasnt had any of that

**Ponds:** kriff

**Ponds:** i didnt even think about it when i had leave on coruscant, i just went to 79s and got wasted

**Wolffe:** hes got access to records and shit, he knows when we’re on planet. he can come find us too

**Rexy:** Judging by the amount of flimsiwork in his office, im not sure that he has the time to check that kind of stuff

**Bly:** What do you mean?

**Rexy:** _8398402490_img.png_

**Bly:** Holy kriff

**Wolffe:** karking hells

**Ponds:** is that all his???

**Rexy:** Yes and no

**Wolffe:** explain.

**Rexy:** According to Tooka the Senate hands a lot of stuff over to the Guard and Fox goes through everything they’re given

**Wolffe:** wtf??

**Bly:** That can’t be legal!

**Ponds:** the only one of us who would actually know is fox

**Wolffe:** …

**Kote:** ….

**Bly:** ...The 327th should be on Coruscant soon, I’ll check on him then.

**Kote:** Thank you.

**Bly:** There’s no reason to thank me.

**Bly:** He’s my brother too, you know.

**Kote:** Still.

**Kote:** Thank you.

  
  
  


“Hey, you’re from the 501st, right?” Fives swears under his breath as he startles, whipping around to see a shiny in Guard colors standing behind him with a tilted head and wide, earnest eyes.

“Shit, kid, don’t sneak up on me like that.” He exhales heavily, a hand on his chest. He can’t feel his heart beating through the plastoid, but it’s a close call. “Yeah, I’m 501st. ARC Trooper Fives, at your service.” The kid’s eyes practically  _ sparkle _ .

“You’re an ARC? That’s so cool!” He bounces on his heels with an enthusiasm Fives recognizes from cadethood. “Oh, I’m Blast by the way!” Fives grins, his heart aching at the kid’s energy. It reminds him so much of Hevy and Droidbait back before Rishi. “Were you looking for someone?”

“Nah, I was just looking around.” Fives straightens up. “My squad was asked to consult on an investigation so I figured I’d get on you lot’s good side before I go stepping on anybody’s toes.”

“Oh, okay,” Blast says, looking curious. “I can show you to the barracks if you want.”

“Lead on, vod’ika,” Fives says, amused. Blast starts moving, eagerly chattering to Fives as they walk. He’s enthusiastic like only a shiny can be, bright-eyed and not yet worn down by the atrocities of war. Fives frowns as he takes in Blast’s profile, taking in the softness to his jawline and the roundness of his features.

“How old are you, kid?” Fives asks, interrupting Blast’s ramble about the superiority of the DC-17. Blast blinks a few times.

“I’m almost nine,” he says casually. Fives’ world goes off-kilter. The whole GAR knew about the deployment age going down, nine-year-olds getting shipped out instead of fully grown ten-year-olds, mixed in with those batches of clones that grew unnaturally fast and were little better than cannon fodder. But an  _ eight _ -year-old? Maybe that difference wasn’t much for a nat-born, but it was a world of difference for the clones. It was the difference between getting a gangly teenager and a fully grown adult. “Why’re you asking?”

“How long have you been with the Guard?” Fives asks instead, side-stepping Blast’s own question. The shiny doesn’t seem to notice, perking up at the question.

“About three months! My whole squad got shipped here, but I think most of my batchmates are still back on Kamino.” Thank the Force for  _ that _ , Fives thinks to himself bitterly.

“Yeah? What’s your squad like?”

“They’re all pretty good,” Blast says cheerfully. “Scoot and I go way back, and Hash is one of my batchmates.”

“What about the rest of your squad?” Fives asks before he can think better of it. The empty place in his chest is throbbing dully. Blast’s smile fades.

“Razor got killed in a firefight a few weeks after we were deployed,” he says, voice much more subdued. He looks down at the floor. “One of the Senators took offense to Vibro’s attitude when Commander Fox was out on a mission and got him decommissioned.” Fives puts his hand on the kid’s shoulder, squeezing just hard enough to be felt through the armor.

“Does Fox normally stop that kind of thing?” he asks curiously. It’s probably a good idea to get the Guard’s impression of their boss, now that he thinks about it, since he’s come to the painful realization that everything he thought he’d known about Fox was horribly wrong. Blast nods.

“It’s why our armor’s so similar,” Blast confides. “It lets him shuffle us around so the Senators think we’re being punished or sent away, and they have a hard time telling us apart.” Fives’ eyebrows shoot up. Huh. That was definitely an interesting strategy, more so for the fact that it existed than what it actually constituted.

“That’s smart,” he says aloud, and Blast’s mood seems to lighten as he nods, more energetically this time.

“Yeah, Commander Fox is kinda intimidating but he’s really strong and smart. Commander Thorn always says he’s just grumpy because he doesn’t get enough sleep.”

“Blast!” another vod’s voice squeaks out, mortified. Another shiny hurries over to them from the other side of the hall, eyes darting between the two of them. “Don’t repeat those things to a superior officer!” Fives snorts.

“It’s all good, vod’ika,” he says easily, waving it off. The new shiny splutters and Blast snickers. “I’m not here in an official capacity right now.” That gets him to relax some and he nods slowly.

“This is Hash,” Blast introduces. “Hash, this is Fives.” Fives bemusedly notes that Blast has already gotten comfortable enough to drop Fives’ rank entirely. Hash has clearly picked up on it on his own though, if the way his eyes keep nervously darting between Fives’ pauldron and kama is any indication.

“Nice to meet you, kid.” Fives shoots him a crooked smile and Hash ducks his head, mumbling a response. “Blast was just showing me to the barracks.”

“Oh yeah,” Blast exclaims, clearly having completely forgotten their original objective. “We’re almost there.” He bounds forward and Fives follows at a leisurely pace, Hash hovering somewhere between the two of them like he can’t decide who to stick with.

The two of them peel off as soon as they reach the barracks, hurrying down the hall to another shiny that’s likely their last squad member. Fives watches them go with a fond smile, waiting until they’re gone from sight before he enters the barracks.

He’s not sure what he expected from the Guard’s barracks, but it wasn’t  _ this. _ It’s the same impersonal bunking that Fives is used to, but there’s touches of  _ other _ throughout the whole space. There’s a brightly-colored blanket thrown over one of the beds near the door, clearly stitched together out of several different fabrics. Fives can see a few glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to various surfaces, flimsi with detailed drawings stuck to the durasteel walls. Even more strange things that Fives can’t put a name to fill the barracks. There’s just a sense of  _ settledness _ to the whole room that Fives has never felt before.

Fives closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and tries not to think about Echo as his eyes burn with unshed tears. 

Fox is going to be sick. He really is. He stands outside of the Chancellor’s office, just staring at the door looming in front of him. It’s a door he’s walked through more times than he can count over the past few years, the memories bleeding together as they fade. Fox has been scared of visiting the Chancellor before, been terrified of what was going to happen on the other side of those doors, but he’s never been as petrified as he feels right now. All he can think about is the fetus inside of him, the fear that this was all set-up from the beginning and Fox’s brothers were going to pay the price for knowing too much.

He knows he can’t go in like this. The Chancellor didn’t get where he was by being stupid - he’ll pick up on Fox’s fear immediately, and that wasn’t even counting whatever strange Jedi abilities he had. Another bolt of panic sinks through Fox’s chest. Kriff. What if the Chancellor already knew? Could he read Fox’s mind? Fox doesn’t know enough about Jedi or their Force osik to answer either question, and all he can do is pray to the Manda that his fears aren’t true.

Fox forces himself to take a deep breath, and then another. He falls back on a breathing pattern they’d been taught as cadets, trying to ground himself as his panic threatens to overwhelm him. Once he’s calm enough, he forces those thoughts, everything about his pregnancy and the investigation and what he’d spilled, forces them to the back of his mind where everything is crumbling and dripping with shadows. There was one hiding spot on Kamino he’d never been found in, not even by Thorn or the Kaminoans, and he tucks his memories there between two battered walls, a pocket just big enough for a cadet. Fox hides those memories away and keeps breathing until his mind has settled into the cold stillness he tries to mantain while on duty. There’s still fear, creeping through his walls like ivy, but there’s no more than usual, not for dealing with the Chancellor.

Commander Fox squares his shoulders and opens the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this chapter is pretty short!! i wasnt planning on updating this soon but sometimes you just get slapped in the face with a trigger and just gotta cry over fictional characters for a while


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fives makes some friends and finds out some more problems, and fox continues to have a Bad Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: continued terrible treatment of clones and some aftermath of mind control

When Fox comes to, his head is pounding. He groans, stumbling to lean against a nearby wall and close his eyes as his heartbeat echoes in his skull. He doesn’t even need to check the calendar installed on his HUD to know he’s had another blackout.

Three hours. It’s not the most he’s lost, but it’s certainly not insignificant either, especially with the 501st crawling around Coruscant. Fox exhales slowly before pushing off the wall. His back is a wall of dull, throbbing pain as he limps down the hall. It doesn’t feel like anything is broken or that he’s bleeding anywhere, but  _ fuck _ his head hurts, his back hurts, an ache down to his very bones that pulses with each step he takes.

He’s so focused on walking that he doesn’t realize he’s reached the barracks until he almost walks into the door. It takes him a few seconds for his sluggish brain to process, but he shoves it open. He’s so close to his bed that he can almost feel it, barely even seeing the other vode in the room as he makes a beeline for his quarters. Fox’s hand hits the scanner harder than he really means to, but it’s dealt with worse. It just beeps and lets him in, and finally,  _ finally _ Fox can drop his armor and  _ rest _ .

Fives’ eyebrows are making a valiant effort to rejoin his hairline as he watches Commander Fox disappear into one of the rooms he’s pretty sure belong to the officers. The man’s gait had been visibly off, enough so that even if Fives  _ wasn’t _ used to reading body language through armor he would have been able to tell something wasn’t right. And considering the reason Fives was currently on Coruscant...

“Oh man, it looks like the Commander had another episode,” he hears one of the Guards mutter to another. Fives’ ears perk up.

“An episode?” he asks, curious. The vod glances over at him, startled. The other one laughs and slaps the first on the shoulder.

“Forgot we had a visitor, didn’tcha, vod’ika?” the older of the two - with bright-red hair and a goatee to rival Fives’ own - teases, before looking at Fives. “You’re Torrent, right? 501st?”

“That’s me,” Fives confirms. “I’m Fives.”

“Cardinal,” the other replies in kind, before slapping the shoulder of his vod again. The younger vod wheezes, the air knocked out of him. “This is Ringo.”

“Nice to meet you,” Fives says, if only because Echo has drilled it into his head that he can’t just ignore manners when he’s burning up with curiosity. “So what’s this episode you mentioned?” The two Guards exchange looks, and Cardinal grimaces.

“It’s… complicated,” he hedges. Fives just gives him a flat look, and the other man’s lips quirk up into a wry smile. “Yeah, I didn’t think that was going to fly. It’s just sort of a  _ thing _ that happens in the Guard, y’know?” The last part is directed at Ringo, who nods with a look of discomfort clear on his face.

“Yeah, there’s just these blank spots in our minds sometimes, missions nobody remembers going on or meetings that are completely missing.” Fives’ stomach drops. “Lieutenant Thire suggested that it might be because whatever we were doing was so boring our minds tried to spare us,” Ringo adds on hopefully. Cardinal scoffs, dropping back to lay down on his bunk with his hands under his head.

“Thire’s just trying to reassure the shinies,” he says dismissively.

“And this just- happens to all of you?” Fives says incredulously, something dark and nauseating twisting in his stomach. How were they so- so  _ calm _ about this? Ringo shrugs stiffly.

“I guess?” he says hesitantly. “It’s usually not very long, maybe an hour tops.”

“Except for the officers,” Cardinal says with a deep frown, looking in the direction of where Fox had disappeared. “They sometimes drop off the grid for hours. Of course, they try to hide it and say that it’s classified,” he continues with a roll of his eyes. “But Thorn is a shitty liar nine times out of ten, so it wasn’t hard to pick up that something was sketchy about the whole situation.”

“Kriffing hells,” Fives murmurs under his breath, brows furrowed. Just when he thought life couldn’t throw any more curveballs his way, it decides to sucker punch him with a red flag that could rival the Senate Building in size. “How long has this been going on?” Ringo looks at Cardinal expectantly and the older vod sighs.

“Since the beginning, basically. It’s never been bad enough to be worth the time and resources we’d need to look into it, but it’s never gone away either.” Which- how in the seven Sith hells was that  _ not worth _ the resources of a full-blown investigation? They were clones with eidetic memories! Any missing memories (not caused by excessive drinking habits, of course) should have been a huge priority. Some of that train of thought must show on his face because Cardinal glances at him and snorts. “Yeah, I feel you vod, but the Commander gets all twitchy every time someone suggests starting an investigation.”

“Does he?” Fives remarks mildly, mind whirring. This missing memory stuff might have something to do with Fox’s Jedi rapist, as much as Fives’ very being wants to recoil at that thought. Cardinal’s eyes narrow and he sits up to give Fives a sharp look.

“Why are you so interested, vod?” Fives winces internally. Kriff. One day and he’s already got the Guard suspicious of him. Why the hell had Rex left him in charge again?

“Captain Rex is Commander Fox’s adopted batchmate, apparently,” he says casually, brushing off Cardinal’s wariness. “He asked me to keep an eye on how Fox was doing whenever I ‘inevitably snuck into the Guard barracks’.” Fives scoffs dramatically and Cardinal relaxes. Part of Fives can’t help but feel guilty for lying to a vod who’s only looking out for a brother, but he has his mission.

“What’s Captain Rex like?” Ringo pipes up, looking a little starstruck. It’s always amusing to Fives when he sees the hero-worship Rex and Cody have managed to pick up throughout the rest of the GAR, considering he mostly sees them stressed out and trying to keep up with their crazy Jetii Generals.

“He’s a good man and a good CO,” Fives says genuinely. The hilarious contrast of frazzled, end of his rope Rex and the Captain Rex shinies looked at with stars in their eyes aside, Rex really is one of the best men Fives has been lucky enough to serve with. “He manages to keep up with Skywalker, which is an accomplishment in of itself.” Cardinal snorts, clearly familiar with some of Anakin’s numerous exploits, but Ringo looks a little puzzled. “General Skywalker is great, but he’s about as crazy as the Jedi get,” Fives explains. “He almost always jumps into situations head-first and comes up with the most hare-brained schemes to grace this side of the galaxy.”

“Must be interesting working alongside a Jedi like that,” Cardinal comments. “We don’t see much of the Jedi around here.”

“You don’t?” Fives feigns surprise. It had been mentioned in Kix’s explanation, of course, but it certainly wouldn’t hurt to check things against an inside source.

“Lieutenant Thire had a mission with General Yoda, I think,” Ringo says with furrowed brows. “Uhm, I think Commander Stone might have picked up Generals Kenobi and Skywalker after a Senator he was escorting crashed…” Cardinal’s whole face twists into a grimace.

“Representative Binks,” he says in disgust. “It’s a  _ nightmare _ trying to do a protective detail for that guy.” Fives leans over to pat his arm in solidarity.

“At least you have Senator Amidala?” he tries half-heartedly. Ringo snorts but quickly tries to hide it with a cough. Fives arches a brow. “What?”

“Vod,” Cardinal says sympathetically, grabbing Fives’ shoulder to look him dead in the eyes. “Senator Amidala is even  _ worse _ .”

“Worse than Binks?” Fives says skeptically.

“Don’t let that General of yours fool you otherwise, that woman is too fiery for  _ our _ good. She always jumps into things herself instead of staying out of the way, and the blaster she keeps tucked away is a major security breach.”

“We like her, of course,” Ringo quickly jumps in to clarify. “She’s one of the nicest Senators here.”

“She actually tries to remember our names and tell us apart,” Cardinal agrees. “But security-wise? Any mission we get that has her involved is going to go off the rails nine times out of ten.”

“Well  _ that _ sounds familiar,” Fives says dryly. It seems that like attracted like where the General was concerned, clearly. Cardinal laughs and Ringo cracks a small smile. “Right,” Fives shakes his head as he tries to remember where they’d been in the conversation before. “You don’t see Jedi much, even with the Temple on Coruscant?”

“The Temple has their own guards,” Ringo explains. “I think a few vode like to chat with them, but they really don’t get out of the Temple. There’s no real need for us in a professional basis, and it wouldn’t feel right just… going in there.”

“I doubt they’d mind if you visited,” Fives offers, but Ringo just shrugs.

“It’s not like we get much time to spare anyways,” he says with a sigh. “There’s always extra hands needed  _ somewhere _ .” Cardinal winces sympathetically and pats Ringo’s back.

“You guys are that busy?” Fives asks, surprised.

“Always,” Cardinal groans. “If it’s not a Senator needing a Guard detail, then it’s an incident in the lower levels or a mission from the Chancellor or  _ something _ . The Senate Guard and the Coruscant Police are basically useless, so we end up having to pick up their slack.” 

“Plus the Senators keep shoving their work onto us,” Ringo gripes. “The Commander wants the flimsiwork to go through him, but if Orn Free Taa orders us to go find all of his porgs because they got loose in the Senate building  _ again _ we can’t exactly say no.”

“You can’t? That’s…” Fives trails off, shaking his head with wide eyes. “Kriffing hells.”

“Yeah, you have to just roll with whatever dumb osik the Senators come up with so they don’t try to get you in trouble,” Ringo says passionately, throwing his hands in the air and nearly taking Fives’ eye out. “Oops, sorry.”

“It’s fine vod.” Fives waves him off with a crooked smile. “If I had to deal with bureaucrats every day I’d be about ready to snap.” He’s starting to get an idea of what the Guard deals with, and he’s not liking the picture it paints at  _ all _ . No kriffing  _ wonder _ Fox was so high-strung and snappish if he was having to deal with people like Orn Free Taa every day. Fives shudders at the thought.

Still, a part of Fives’ mind is telling him that there’s still more to come. He tries to push the feeling down and focus on chatting with Cardinal and Ringo and the other vode that trickle through the barracks, but it lurks in the back of his mind like a haunting shadow.

Fox wakes up and doesn’t open his eyes, just takes a deep breath and pulls his thin blanket up higher. He’s in his bunk. He can feel the cool durasteel walls, the dent in his bunk that makes his mattress sit wrong. He exhales slowly and forces his body to relax. He’s safe. He’s in his own bunk and nobody can hurt him here. The only people who can get in are his fellow Commanders, and only Thorn can override Fox’s locks.

~~ (A lightsaber could cut through the door, his mind whispers) ~~

Fox rolls over onto his side, taking some of the pressure off of his aching back, and focuses on his mind. He’s exhausted and his head is still throbbing dully, but he’s learned that it’s better to deal with his blackouts while they’re still fresh.

His mind feels colder than usual, the waves churning and buffeting the walls with loud crashes and icy water. One of his walls seems to have buckled under the assault, completely knocked down but for a few bricks still remaining. Fox sighs, too used to the sight to be upset, and moves some of the larger chunks of rock to block the seawater coming in. He can work on trying to repair it later, after things have calmed and it doesn’t hurt so much to touch, but for now he settles for just keeping the ocean out. Having the dark water stay inside his walls, tattered as they may be, always leaves Fox with a slimy feeling that takes weeks for him to shake.

The shadows seem larger than usual as Fox methodically searches through his mind, but they usually are after blackouts. Fox leaves them be, skirting around the edges of the darkest ones. He finds the burnt-out, perfectly circular hole punched through his mind easily enough, and soothes the edges as best as he can. It’s identical to the dozens, the hundreds of holes in Fox’s mind and memory, and he knows it’ll never be filled.

Finally, Fox approaches his hiding spot with trepidation. He doesn’t know what he’ll see, if he’ll find more walls destroyed and missing or if he’s managed to at least hide this much. He finds it, and it’s as if it’s been completely untouched. There’s still the chill in the air from Kamino’s cold ocean, the dampness that seeps through everything whenever a door is opened during a storm. Every dent and crack in the walls of his narrow haven are just as they were when he’d tucked his memories away, and relief hits Fox like a blaster bolt to the chest.

He did it. He’d managed to keep this part of him, however small it was, safe from the Chancellor. He’d finally succeeded in saving some part of himself from that man.

Fox gives in and cries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i cant believe im updating this fast but i got major inspo halfway through replying to navn's comment on the last chapter and the first part of this immediately Demanded to be written. idk how good this actually is bc im still lowkey a mess but i have zero impulse control and post basically as soon as i finish
> 
> (also oops, more ocs)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bly has a crisis and fox continues to give medics migraines
> 
> (aka: fox tries a teensy weensy bit of self-care. he's not a fan.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: implied/referenced rape, some minor self-harming behavior (digging nails into skin)

Bly sighs, running a hand through his hair. He’s well overdue for a haircut by now, but he can’t find it within himself to care about something so trivial with everything going on on Coruscant. Between what Carrion’s told him and Fox’s mysterious situation, his appearance is the last thing on his mind.

“Bly,” Aayla says softly, putting a hand on his shoulder. He fights back a shiver at her touch, his blacks the only barrier between their skin. “You need to relax.” He exhales heavily, frustrated.

“There’s too much going on-”

“We won’t reach Coruscant for a few more days,” Aayla says sternly, cutting him off. “You can’t keep beating yourself up over this the whole time.” Bly winces. He hadn’t realized she’d picked up on that. In retrospect, he really should have known better. She’s always been good at picking up on his worries.

“I’ve always been the one closest to Fox,” he says, looking down at the datapad in front of him. “And what if- our men-” He feels more than sees her stiffen.

“I’ll talk to Carrion,” she says after a moment. “Maybe the medics can discreetly check with the men and make sure that nothing like this has happened.”

“...That might be a good idea,” Bly says, exhaling heavily and turning off his ‘pad. He leans back in his chair and closes his eyes. “I’ll talk to Carrion-” Carrion. The medbay. _Tooka_. His eyes fly open as he jerks upright.

“Bly?” Aayla says, alarmed.

“I think I know what happened to Fox,” Bly breathes out, feeling like he’s been punched in the stomach. Aayla inhales sharply.

“You think he was…?” She trails off, her grip on his shoulder tightening. Bly all but throws his datapad onto the desk, burying his head in his hands.

“The timing is just too similar to be a coincidence, _kark_. The investigation- if there’s others, then-” His nails dig into his scalp, the small pain grounding him in the tumultuous storm of his mind. How the kriff did it take this long for him to realize? Why else would Tooka be making a report aloud for Cody to overhear? What else could set off Kote’s temper after he’s gotten such a good handle on it? It just fits together too well, and Bly hasn’t survived this long by being blindly optimistic.

His eyes burn with unshed tears and he presses the heels of his hands into his sockets. They’d- they’d as good as abandoned Fox at a time he needed their support more than ever. No karking _wonder_ he didn’t feel like he could go to him. He’s jerked from his thoughts by Aayla’s cool hands wrapping around his wrists. She gently pulls his hands away from his face and he ducks his head. He doesn’t know how she puts up with him sometimes. He’s always been too soft, too emotional, too quiet. Everything a soldier - a _Commander_ \- shouldn’t be.

“Bly,” Aayla says again, her voice soft but with an undertone of solid beskar. “This is not your fault.” He squeezes his eyes shut as tightly as he can. He has faith in Aayla, in his Jedi. If she asked him to jump, he’d say how high. He’d believe in almost anything that came out of her mouth.

But he can’t believe this.

He hears Aayla sigh and feels her let go of his wrists. Of course. It was only a matter of time until he disappointed-

Bly’s eyes fly open as he feels her cool hands touch his cheeks. She’s cradling his face in her hands like he’s something precious, a look of sorrow crossing her beautiful features. He feels his heart catch in his throat as he stares into her eyes. They’re so deep and full of emotion that he feels as if he could get lost in them forever.

“Bly,” she repeats a third time, and he jolts at the seriousness of her voice, unable to look away from her. “Right now, we don’t know for sure what has happened to Commander Fox. Even if it is the worst-case scenario, you are still not the one to blame for this. There’s no guarantee that an increase in communication would have spared your brother, and on the front there’s nothing you would have been able to do for him. You made a mistake, yes, but you must accept it and move forward. The past is the past, what matters is what you do going onwards.”

“Right,” Bly manages to say, his voice coming out raw. He swallows hard, takes a few deep breaths. “We don’t know anything for sure.” She leans forward to rest her forehead against his. He closes his eyes, tears still clinging to his lashes. He knows she doesn’t mean it like that. Still, he leans into her touch, just taking in the calm reassurance she’s radiating.

He’s going to make things right.

Tooka exhales heavily, pushing the pile of flimsi away to rub at their temples. Kix pats their shoulder supportively, but he looks just as exhausted as Tooka feels. “Why is it so karking hard to find out about this _osik_?” They grumble, irritated.

“Probably because the majority of people who work here are rich enough for their own private doctors,” Kix says dryly. “Gotta keep things discreet.” Tooka shoots him a poisonous glare.

“That was _rhetorical_ ,” they say snippily. Kix snorts, turning back to his own stack of documents. Tooka’s resigned to another few hours of slogging through largely-useless records when the buzzer for their office door goes off. They pause, brows furrowed in confusion as they try to think who would be disturbing them after they had explicitly stated that they were to be left alone unless it was an emergency. It’s not one of Tooka’s medics, or they would have used the door connected to the medbay. It’s not Thorn, come to hover around Tooka while he frets about Fox’s health again, because Tooka had sliced into one of Fox’s ‘pads and assigned Thorn to a mission on the lower levels.

The buzzer goes off again, but it keeps going on and on, as if whoever is out there is holding it down. Tooka growls, headache spiking at the obnoxious sound, and pushes their chair away from their desk with more force than is really necessary. They storm over to the door and wrench it open. Their eyes widen.

Fox is standing in the hall, slumped and leaning heavily against the wall where Tooka’s buzzer is. He looks even paler than usual, pure exhaustion lining his sharp features. The way he’s holding himself just _reeks_ of an untreated injury, especially since Tooka knows that Fox hasn’t had a patrol or any missions yet today. “Kriff!” They exclaim as he wobbles dangerously, lurching forward to catch his arm.

“Tooka?” They hear from behind them.

“One second,” they get out through gritted teeth as they guide Fox into their office, his normal gracefulness nowhere to be seen. Kix’s eyes go wide as he sees Fox and he jumps to his feet, taking the Commander’s other side and helping him over to Tooka’s chair. He drops into it heavily, letting out a cut-off cry of pain.

“What the hell happened to him?” Kix hisses as Tooka snatches up their mostly-unused field kit and dumps it onto their desk.

“Did you have another episode?” they ask Fox briskly, ignoring the other CMO. Fox grimaces and nods. Tooka swears virulently under their breath. “Alright, what hurts?”

“Back,” Fox grunts, squeezing his eyes shut. “Head.”

“Any pain in your abdomen?” Tooka checks as they bustle over and check his head over. There aren’t any visible injuries this time, so it must just be whatever causes the blackouts. They check his eyes anyways, making sure he hasn’t managed to get a concussion, and once again wishes that Fox had let them investigate what was causing the episodes when they’d first started. “Head’s clear.” Fox makes a sound that’s probably acknowledgment. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his thighs, and opens up his blacks so that Tooka can see his back.

“Kriffing hells,” Kix mutters under his breath, eyebrows shooting up as he takes in the collage of bruises that is Fox’s back. Tooka’s eye twitches. Several of the ones at the edges have healed up enough for him to know that the Commander had waited at least half a day before coming to him.

“You should have come here as soon as you came back to your senses, _di’kut_!” they hiss as they grab a tube of low-grade bacta. Fox flinches when the cool bacta hits his back and Tooka smears it over the worst of the bruising. “What were you thinking?!”

“I was tired,” Fox mumbles, his voice slightly muffled. “Passed out for a few hours and then caught up on flimsiwork until the barracks were mostly cleared out.” Tooka groans, dragging the hand not currently covered in bacta down their face. 

“You could have _commed me_ ,” they grumble. “I would have brought my kit to your quarters.”

“I knew you were busy.” Tooka has to pause and take a deep breath. Fox’s stupid self-sacrificial streak will never be less than positively _infuriating_ for them. They have no clue how the rest of the GAR thinks Fox doesn’t care about his vode when he stretches himself so thin trying to do everything he can to protect them.

“For Force’s sake- that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t have taken a break to go patch your shebs up!” they throw their hands in the air. “Having a chance to do something other than reading stupid articles would be a kriffing _gift_!”

“Oh.” Fox’s shoulders slump. Tooka’s headache has somehow gotten _worse_ , and they pinch the bridge of their nose with their clean hand.

“...At least you came here on your own, this time,” they say finally. They sigh, eyes flickering over to look at Kix. He looks bewildered, staring at Fox with something like dawning comprehension in his eyes. “Could I go ahead and check on the pregnancy while you’re here?” Fox flinches violently at the word, curling in on himself. Tooka waits expectantly. After a long few moments of silence, he finally nods.

“Just a scan.”

“Of course,” Tooka murmurs, their heart aching at the look on Fox’s face. They grab the scanner, going over Fox’s head and back first - both to make sure that they haven’t missed something and to give Fox a moment to calm himself. Or steel himself. Tooka’s not really sure which is more applicable right now.

The scan shows nothing immediately worrying, although Fox’s stress levels continue to be - as usual - ridiculously off the charts. Kix even does a double-take when he sees the results. Tooka sighs, shoving the scanner back into the kit. “Looks like you’re as good as usual. Sleep-deprived, stressed to the Outer Rim and back, and in need of some more food. Preferably something that _isn’t_ just rations.” Fox’s side-eye at that is scathing but Tooka just smirks back. He seems to have relaxed a little, falling back into the familiarity that is bickering with Tooka about his dietary deficiencies.

“We don’t have the credits-” Tooka scoffs, shoving their kit back into the corner.

“We both know that’s a load of complete kriffing bantha shit, Commander. You just spoil the shinies too much.” Fox glares at them and Tooka just arches a brow. They’re right and they both know it. “Go down to Dex’s, get yourself a nerfburger and a full meal. Medic’s orders.” Fox just stands up, adjusts his blacks, and walks right out the door. Tooka pokes their own head out and yells down the hall. “I mean it, Fox! Nerfburgers!” Fox walks faster.

Kix watches as Tooka huffs and steps back into the room, closing the door behind them. He’s feeling a little shell-shocked, if he’s being honest. The man he’d seen is nothing like the Commander Fox Kix had met, and the dissonance doesn’t sit well in his mind. 

“Is he always like that?” Kix says as he finally remembers that words exist. Tooka makes a vague noise of assent as they pull their kit back out and start to re-organize it.

“Like what?” they ask absently as they inspect the power pack of the scanner.

“Scared?” Kix offers. Tooka pauses, setting the pack down slowly.

“...No,” they say, their voice flat. “He’s not always like that.” Kix winces.

“Because of…?” Tooka purses their lips and gives a jerky nod.

“He’s never _liked_ the medbay, even less than usual for troopers, but this much is…” they trail off, hands curling into fists on top of the table. It’s clear enough to Kix that this is bothering Tooka almost as much as it’s bothering _him_ , which is the exact opposite of reassuring. He doesn’t bother to ask about the ‘episode’ Tooka had mentioned or the cryptic exchange that had followed. He’s not sure he _wants_ to know.

Instead, Kix turns back to the stack of files and goes back to work in silence. After a long moment, Tooka joins him. Neither of them speaks all the way up until Kix’s alarm goes off for midmeal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, squinting at my own fic: does bly know enough pieces of the puzzle to put things together??? does this even make sense for him to figure out????


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the 501st uncover more of the guard's secrets. they kind of wish they hadn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: implied/reference rape/non-con, mention/discussion of injuries

Kix exhales slowly when his comm vibrates with the reminder for mid-meal, his eyes darting over to where Tooka is staring intently at the datapad clutched tightly in their hands. He doesn’t think they’ve changed the input on their screen in the last ten minutes. Or moved at all, for that matter. He sighs, his stool squeaking as he turns to face the other medic. He sees Tooka twitch at the sound, their fingers tightening around the datapad. It’s as good a time as any to bring up the blurrg in the room.

“So,” Kix says wih faux casualness, breaking the silence that’s hung heavily in the office since Fox’s departure. “You want to explain what all that was about?”

“Not particularly, no,” Tooka says sourly, but they turn off the datapad. Kix leans back in his seat, arching a brow expectantly. Tooka groans.

“Can we at least eat before unpacking all that _osik_ ?” they complain, but it’s half-hearted at best. Kix’s eyes narrow. Tooka is a stubborn _shabuir_ when it suits them, something this whole mess has brought to the forefront even more than usual.

“I think food can wait until we’re done,” Kix says flatly. Tooka grimaces but nods reluctantly. “Explain.” Tooka exhales heavily, leaning back in their chair as exhaustion sweeps over their face.

“...It started a few weeks after the war,” they begin slowly. “Everyone began to start having these little jumps in their memories.” Kix frowns.

“Jumps?”

“Little snippets of time missing,” Tooka explains. Kix stiffens. Maybe that wouldn’t be too alarming to a nat-born, but the clones are decanted with eidetic memories. They don’t just _forget_ things like that. “It was just a few minutes here and there, so nobody brought it up. They didn’t want to seem defective.”

“And this happened to…?”

“Everyone in the guard,” Tooka replies, their voice flat and devoid of emotion. “After a few months it started to get worse, noticeable enough that nobody could deny it and say that their mind must have been making up things. I had a bunch of vode come to the medbay in a panic because they were scared that it was going to get them decommissioned. Everybody was starting to get freaked out because of it.”

“Wait,” Kix interrupts, holding up a hand. “When you say _everyone_ , does that include you and the other medics?” Tooka stiffens but, after a beat, nods.

“...I started trying to look into it,” they say slowly, carefully. “It didn’t make any sense for it to be happening to so many of us. And then, one day, out of the blue, Commander Fox made an announcement that nobody was to look into it any further.”

“And you just listened to that?” Kix asks incredulously. Tooka barely even reacts - no snippy comment, no glare, no sign of any of their usual responses.

“Considering that the day before he’d gone missing for six hours and showed up with his humerus broken in two places and glass sticking out of his leg, yes I listened to that.” Kix inhales sharply. Tooka nods grimly. “Exactly. I wasn’t _happy_ about it, but I listened.”

“But it didn’t stop,” Kix says slowly as his mind turns the new pieces of information over in his head. Tooka sighs.

“No, it didn’t. It got worse, especially for the officers. They happen less often for the rest of the Guard, but they’re… longer. More dangerous. It’s not unusual to come back injured after one.” They stop and bite their lip, looking down at their hands. Kix straightens up.

“Tooka?” he asks, concerned. There’s something an awful lot like fear in their eyes, and Kix’s stomach churns uneasily.

“...I haven’t told the other medics, but I still get them too,” they confess, fingers twisting into the fabric of their medic whites. “Not as long as the Commanders’, but an hour or two will be missing and I’ll find things missing from our supplies.” A chill goes down Kix’s spine.

“What kind of things?” he asks. He almost doesn’t want to know the answer. Tooka closes their eyes and takes a deep breath, letting their head fall back to rest against the chair.

“...Medicines, mostly,” Tooka admits quietly. “The really potent ones, with strict dosing requirements and government regulations.”

“What?!” Kix exclaims, and Tooka’s shoulders slump. They look... defeated.

“Sometimes there will be a murder in the news a few days after, where the victim was killed with some kind of ‘poison’.” They make airquotes in the air half-heartedly. Kix quickly puts together what they can’t bring themselves to say.

“You think somebody is taking advantage of these blackouts and is stealing from the medbay so that they can assassinate people?” Kix feels like his foundation has been rocked, like the world shifted beneath his feet and doesn’t sit right anymore. Tooka laughs, but it’s a brittle, sour sound.

“Or that they’re responsible for the blackouts,” they say with a bitter sort of fake cheerfulness. Kix swallows hard, a lump in his throat. He’d never been particularly close with Tooka growing up, but the older medic had been a steady presence throughout his cadet years in their own snarky way. No matter what happened, their attitude was always the same, a beacon of familiarity in the chaos and turmoil of the medbay. To see them like this - vulnerable, bitter ~~broken~~ \- is off-putting.

Kix is suddenly a whole lot less optimistic about this mission. If this has been happening to the Guard right under their noses and they hadn’t had a clue something was wrong, what other secrets were the lurking in the Guards’ shadows?

“Cody, would you mind sparing a moment to talk with me?” Cody blinks, looking up from the ‘pad in his hands. Obi-Wan stands in front of him, hands tucked into his sleeves with his normal smile on his face. Cody is familiar enough with the man to spot the crease between his brows, the strain in his smile.

“Of course, sir.” Cody puts the datapad aside and stands, trailing after Obi-Wan as they head in the direction of the General’s quarters. “What did you want to discuss?”

“I have a proposal I’d like you to read over before I submit it to the council,” Obi-Wan says. The door opens as they approach and Obi-Wan picks up a datapad off the desk. He turns and hands it to Cody. Cody skims the first line and his eyebrows shoot up, shock rocketing through his system.

“This is-!”

“A proposal for new guidelines regarding sexual misconduct in the Jedi Order, yes,” Obi-Wan says calmly.

“B-but, why…” Cody just feels completely bowled over. He _knows_ that Obi-Wan cares about the clones, has gone out of his way to give them as normal a life as he can during the middle of a war, but this is… It’s Obi-Wan prioritizing the safety of Cody and his brothers over the Jedi’s pride, their reputation. Maybe the Council won’t pass it, but Obi-Wan is called the Negotiator for a _reason_ , and Cody knows he’ll fight his hardest to push it through. It just feels like so _much_ , putting the feelings Cody has always known Obi-Wan has carried into something clear and concrete and _provable_ , and Cody is a steady man but he feels rocked down to his very core as his emotions hit him like a wave.

“You are _people_ ,” the Jedi says firmly. “Any sentient should have protection from this kind of violation, and this is not an exception. As both Jedi and Commanding Officers, we have a duty to the men under our care, and a responsibility to uphold that duty by ensuring your well-being. I wish that we hadn’t overlooked this issue for so long, but now that I am aware of the issue I will do everything in my power to protect you and your brothers.”

“Sir…” Cody says, voice choked up as he swallows thickly around the lump in his throat.

“Obi-Wan,” the other man corrects gently, giving Cody a small, sweet smile.

“Obi-Wan,” Cody amends. “You… You really did this for Fox? For us?”

“Of course.” Obi-Wan leans in, pressing his forehead to Cody’s. “I will wait to send it in until the investigation is concluded, but I wanted you to look over it first, to see if there’s anything I may have missed or any changes you think I should make.”

“I… Sir, this is…” Cody chokes out. “ _Thank you_.” Obi-Wan’s smile is a little sad as he reaches up to cup Cody’s cheek.

“Oh, Cody,” he murmurs. “I’m only doing the bare minimum of what you and your men deserve.”

“Even that much is more than we’re used to,” Cody says, finally closing his eyes and leaning into Obi-Wan’s touch. He hears the other man sigh.

“I know,” he says, the resignation and exhaustion dripping off the words. “I know.”

Fives straightens up as the person he was looking for finally appeares. He’s been looking for Commander Thorn ever since his conversation with Cardinal and Ringo earlier, but there hadn’t even been a glimpse of the man around the Guard HQ in hours. Looking at him now, it’s as clear as day that the man’s been out on a mission - likely an unpleasant one, considering the amount of grime and gunk stuck to Thorn and his squad as they trudge their way in. Most of the troopers make a beeline for the showers, but Thorn and another Guard member - one covered in significantly more muck than the rest, which is a little impressive in of itself - linger in the hallway talking. Fives ambles over, hands in his pockets.

“-sir, please, I swear I’m not actually that good with-” the unfamiliar trooper sounds close to tears, on the younger end of the spectrum but there’s nowhere near the level of squeakiness in his voice that still lingers in Blast’s squad of shinies.

“Wrangler, kih’vod,” Thorn says flatly, arms crossed over his chest. “You got a narglatch _purring_ less than a minute after it tried to take Striker’s head off.”

“It was only upset because its twin got hurt!” Wrangler protests. “Once she realized we were there to help-” Thorn cuts him off.

“She still didn’t let the rest of us anywhere near her. Just accept that you’re good with animals and move on, vod’ika.”

“But-” Fives decides that this is an opportune moment to make his presence known and clears his throat. Wrangler yelps and almost trips over his own feet trying to spin around and look at him. Thorn catches him by the arm and hauls him back upright.

“There you are Commander, I’ve been looking for you all day!” Thorn huffs and his helmet tilits towards Wrangler.

“Wrangler, go shower. We can continue this conversation later.” Wrangler nods quickly and hurries off, joining the rest of the squad in the showers. “What can I help you with?” Thorn asks curiously, pulling his helmet off to reveal his sweat-soaked face and disheveled hair. Fives waves him off.

“Nothing that can’t wait for a good shower,” he says, gesturing to Thorn’s… everything. Thorn grimaces.

“Mission in the lower levels,” he says wryly. “Ended up in the sewers... again.” Fives shoots him a sympathetic look, all too familiar with the nastiness that one encountered in sewers. They were a good way to slip under the radar and travel around unseen, but Force knows they were packed to the brim with absolute filth.

“You go ahead and shower, vod. You got an office or something I can meet you in?” Thorn wrinkles his nose, his hand rising like he means to run it through his hair before he catches himself and lowers it.

“The rest of the Commanders and I share an office, but I’ll kick them out if they’re still there by the time I’m done.” Fives nods, accepting that, and lets Thorn give him directions to where the room is located - a few floors below Fox’s, strangely - before Thorn sighs. “I should go ahead and take that shower before I start stinking up the whole place,” he says, and Fives gives him a sloppy salute. Thorn laughs before he disappears into the shower area.

Fives wanders in the direction of the location Thorn had given him, pausing to chat with some of the Guard members he passed in the halls or peering out the windows curiously. Still, even with his leisurely pace, it didn’t take him very long to reach the office. He pokes his head in to find Commander Stone sitting at one of the desks, chewing on the end of a pen as he glares at the datapad in his hand. Fives lightly raps on the door frame and Stone looks up, a little startled.

“Oh, hey. You’re, uh, Fives, right? From the 501st?”

“That’s me,” Fives confirms, stepping into the office. Thorn’s desk is across from Stone’s, so Fives perches on the edge of the desk as he looks at the other commander.

“Did you need something?” Stone questions, tilting his head.

“Thorn said to meet him here once he’s done showering.” The side-eye Stone is giving him makes Fives think that his non-answer was spotted, but the commander doesn’t bring it up.

“Good,” Stone huffs. “He needs a kriffing shower after that mission. I’m pretty sure Tooka sent him on the dirtiest mission we had just to make a point.”

“Tooka assigned it to him?” Fives asks, puzzled. “But they’re a medic.” 

“Yeah, but they’re also a decent enough slicer,” he explains. “Thorn’s been hovering around the medbay a lot because of whatever happened to Fox, so about half the Guard has bets about whether Tooka is responsible for it or not.” So Stone didn’t know about Fox? Fives jots the observation down, a little taken aback. The Guard seems to be pretty close-knit, if Fives’ interactions with them over the past few days is any indication, and Stone is just as much a Commander as Thorn. He can get keeping something this big from the rest of the Guard, but one of the officers?

“So there’s a betting pool going on?” Fives asks instead, pushing down the burning, itching curiosity bubbling in the back of his mind. “What do you lot normally bet? I imagine it’s a lot more varied than on the front-lines.” Stone shrugs.

“Maybe. There’s usually some kind of rotgut in the pot, maybe a handful of credits, usually some shifts with the better Senators tossed in. Besides that, it’s just whatever the trooper in question happens to scrounge up. Some of the vode have gotten a real good talent for finding some half-decent stuff in the garbage, so a lot of that gets traded or betted.”

“Is that where the stuff in the barracks came from?” Fives asks, intrigued. “I bet some of the brothers from the front would be interested in a round or two of sabacc for some of that.”

“You think so?” Stone says, surprised. Fives nods enthusiastically.

“Yeah! We aren’t usually on planet long enough to get stuff like that, but I’m sure some brothers have picked up some things they’d be willing to trade or bet.”

“I might talk to the men about that,” Stone says, looking lost in thought. That’s the sight that welcomes Thorn when he arrives, hair still damp and wearing only his blacks. He arches a brow as he looks between the two of them.

“You two up to something I should be worried about?” he asks dryly. Stone snorts.

“Nah. You want the office, right?” He’s already standing before Thorn nods, grabbing his datapad as he heads towards the door. Stone gives Fives a nod of acknowledgment before he turns and leaves.

“Alright,” Thorn says when the door closes behind Stone. He makes his way around his desk, sitting down behind it. Fives hops off the edge of the desk, pulling Stone’s chair out and dragging it in front of Thorn. He plops down, taking a moment to enjoy the light padding of the chair. It’s not much, but at least it isn’t just cold metal. “So what did you want to talk about?” Fives ponders what to say for a moment, remembering Thorn’s anger when Tooka had said they had told the 501st, and decides to tread lightly.

“When Tooka was filling us in in their office, you were pretty quiet.” Thorn exhales slowly, leaning back in his chair.

“You want to hear my view about the whole thing,” he concludes. Fives nods, watching as Thorn sighs heavily. “...I’ve known Fox since we were cadets,” he begins after a moment. “Outside of his batch, I’ve always been the brother closest to him.”

“Cody mentioned you were the only person who could find him when he hides.” Thorn twitches noticeably at the mention of Cody’s name, and Fives can almost feel his frustration rising. He pushes it back down, though, and just takes a carefully measured breath.

“...Yeah. Yeah, I’ve always been the best at finding Fox’s hiding spots.” Thorn stares off into space for a moment, lost in thought. After a moment he shakes his head, jerking himself out of it. “Right. I traded assignments with one of my batchmates to go to the Guard with him.” Fives’ eyebrows shot up.

“And you got away with that?” he asks incredulously. “What about the Kaminoans?”

“Sliced into the system,” Thorn says shamelessly. “It was easy enough to slip by because our CT numbers were close together, and he was all for it if it meant being able to go to the front lines.”

“Force,” Fives says disbelievingly as he shakes his head. “I can’t imagine doing that as a cadet.” Thorn shrugs.

“Fox was upset about being stationed to Coruscant, so it’s not like I could just leave him _alone_.” Fives dips his head in acquiescence and Thorn moves on. “He changed… a lot after that,” Thorn says, his good mood fading. “We took the brunt of the upset about the whole… clone army appearing out of nowhere situation,” he waves his hand vaguely. Fives frowns.

“Was it that bad?” Thorn blinks a few times.

“Oh, right. I forgot you’re younger. Yeah, it was pretty rough. Fox refuses to admit it, of course, but he had to do a _lot_ of damage control the first few months until we figured out how to avoid stepping on the Senators’ toes.”

“Yeesh,” Fives says awkwardly, not really sure how to respond. Thorn takes one look at his expression and snorts.

“I don’t blame you kid, I feel pretty much the same way. I’m just better at faking it.” He smiles wryly. “I’d much rather fight a whole battalion of droids than deal with Senator Taa when he gets worked up about not getting his deliveries on time.” Thorn scoffs. “As if we have anything to do with _that_.”

“That’s…” Fives doesn’t even know what to say.

“Uh, right, right. Back to Fox.” Thorn shakes his head a few times. “Um, he started acting strangely but I figured it was just the missing time - have you heard about that yet?” At Fives’ nod, Thorn continues. “They settled down some for most of the troopers after a while, but they were still pretty bad for us officers and only got _worse_ for Fox. I know Tooka kept a record of the incidents they know about, but Fox… tends to keep things pretty close to his chest.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” Fives says drily and Thorn shoots him a weak smile.

“It’s hard to pinpoint when things really went downhill, because Fox just kept slipping down more and more as time went by, but if I had to guess when things… changed… it would be about eight months ago.” Fives’ eyes widen.

“Eight months ago?” he repeats, surprised. “But the pregnancy happened…” he trails off as the pieces come together in his mind. “You don’t think it was an isolated incident,” he says numbly. Thorn purses his lips and looks away.

“It’s just a guess,” he says quietly. “Fox was wearing full armor most of the time even before then, but seven or eight months ago was when he started being a lot more _careful_ about it. He started avoiding the medbay even more than usual, too, so we all kind of just thought he was trying to hide injuries.” Thorn’s face twists into something too laden with emotion for Fives to look upon, so he turns his gaze down to his hands. “We needled him about going to see Tooka, but it didn’t seem that bad so we never really pushed him.”

“I’ll talk to the others about pulling up the deployment records for that period of time too,” Fives decides, rising to his feet. “We’ll see if cross-referencing them gives us anything.” Thorn looks up at him in something close to awe and Fives feels heat rise in his cheeks. He averts his eyes, coughing into his fist.

“...Thank you,” Thorn says after a long moment. “I know he’s a pain in the shebs and probably making this investigation a lot harder than it needs to be, but... he’s still my vod’ika.” Fives gives him a sad smile, thinking of Echo, no longer in his place at Fives’ side.

“I’ll do everything I can to make sure we catch the _shabuir_ ,” he says softly, and Thorn shoots him a wobbly smile of his own. Fives leans over to squeeze his shoulder reassuringly before he turns to leave, newfound determination sinking into his bones.

He _will_ get to the bottom of this, even if it’s the last thing he ever does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this. this was actually supposed to have a 4th part but it was kinda getting long so im gonna save that for later. and i swear ill stop adding ocs one day but i keep needing bg characters and then i end up getting attached.
> 
> on a less story-related note, i hit a weird point in my depression where i can actually sit through whole episodes of tcw without getting twitchy, which is at least 60% of the reason this chapter exists bc ive kinda just been winging things on the 501st's characterization up until now. but! due to that and various other Health Shenanigans, the next ch might be a while off!! i'll do my best bc i enjoy writing this and reading the lovely comments yall give, but updates in general might slow down for a while


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> and so the cogs turn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: some description of injury, nothing too graphic; discussion/referenced rape/non-con

“Are you kriffing kidding me?” Hardcase blurts out as he reads the message over Jesse’s shoulder.

“What?” Tup asks curiously, his head popping up from the stacks of flimsi that he has arranged around him in a circle. Jesse huffs, swatting Hardcase away half-heartedly.

“Fives wants us to also get the records for eight months ago too,” he explains. Tup wrinkles his nose.

“Why?” he asks, sounding a bit plaintively. Hardcase can’t really blame him. He’d never thought he’d hate the color blue, but three days of doing nothing but reading page after page of flimsi has made him desperately want to never see the color again. Dogma lets out a sharp noise of reprimand, elbowing his batchmate in the side.

“Tup!” he hisses. Tup flinches away from the blow, his eyes wide. Jesse and Hardcase look at Dogma, taken aback. Dogma seems to realize what he’s done and curls in on himself, ducking his eyes to look down at the floor. Hardcase had never quite gotten around to asking Tup about his batchmate’s behavior, but as they exchange looks over Dogma’s head, he already knows, deep down in his bones, that something is  _ wrong _ . He’s not just imagining things. Maybe it’s as something as small as exhaustion or frustration from dealing with so much boring data, but Hardcase has a feeling that it’s something more than that.

“Dogma…” Jesse says softly. It just makes the younger man flinch back and pull his shoulders up tighter, fingers white-knuckled around the flimsi he’s clutching in his hands.

“We should get back to work,” Dogma says, not quite hiding the tremor in his voice. Tup is looking increasingly alarmed, setting aside his own flimsiwork completely.

“Dog’ika, what’s wrong?” Tup asks, reaching out to grab Dogma’s shoulder. Dogma’s whole body shudders at the touch and Tup pulls him closer, wrapping his arms around his brother. Dogma sags into the touch, letting his head drop to rest on Tup’s shoulder.

“I don’t… the Jedi are supposed to be…” Dogma mumbles into the fabric of Tup’s blacks, sounding completely exhausted. “How did the vic- the trooper know that anybody would believe them? It’s- Against a  _ Jedi _ . We’re just  _ clones _ .” Tup bites his lip, running his hand down Dogma’s back.

“...I think the trooper just trusted in their medic,” Jesse says after a long moment. Hardcase turns to look at him in surprise. Dogma’s head lifts up just enough for him to peer up at Jesse with puzzled brown eyes - free of tears, Hardcase is relieved to see. “This mission came in through Kix,” Jesse explains, keeping his gaze trained on Dogma’s face. “Which means it started as a  _ medical _ matter.”

“But we’re looking through records for months ago,” Tup says as realization dawns across his features. “Which means it wasn’t the result of a rape kit.” Dogma flinches and Tup’s attention quickly drops back down to his distressed brother as he murmurs something under his breath.

“Exactly,” Jesse agrees, a small frown on his face as he observes Dogma. “So this trooper went to their medic and the medic  _ believed _ them, believed enough to alert the other medics. And Kix trusted  _ them _ enough to bring this all the way to the Generals.” Dogma straightens up, a contemplative expression falling across his face.

“You good, vod?” Tup asks, worriedly. Dogma blinks a few times and then hesitates, clearly considering lying. He’s the worst liar in the entire 501st by a ridiculous margin, if only because he always struggles with the idea of lying to a superior officer’s face. The conflict ends up as clear as day on his face, tipping everyone in the vicinity off what he’d been thinking about. “C’mon, we’ll call it a day,” Tup decides for his batchmate, rising to his feet. He pulls Dogma with him, despite the protest already on the other man’s lips.

“But-”

“You two go get some rest,” Jesse agrees. “‘Case and I will work for a while, but we’ve made some serious progress already. We can afford for you two to leave early.” Tup is nodding along, but Dogma still looks hesitant. After a long moment, he finally nods. Tup wastes no time all but dragging his brother out of the room, ignoring Dogma’s yelp as they make a beeline straight for the barracks.

Once they’re out of sight, Hardcase looks back down at his pile of flimsi and groans. “We aren’t going to be done any time soon, are we?” Jesse’s grimace is probably identical to the one on Hardcase’s own face as he settles back down across from Hardcase, grabbing a handful of files out of the area Dogma had been working in.

“We sure aren’t, vod,” Jesse agrees unenthusiastically. “But hopefully Dogma will be a little less high strung after this.” Hardcase makes a low sound of agreement as he flips through a new set of records, skimming the dates.

“Hopefully,” he repeats, before he’s falling back into the repetitive drone of busywork and the world fades out around him.

“Hey,” Rex hears from behind him. He sighs. Anakin takes his silence as an invitation, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. “How’ve you been doing? I haven’t seen you much since…” Anakin trails off, no doubt remembering that nightmare of a day.

“I’m fine,” Rex says flatly, not bothering to turn and face his General. Anakin scoffs.

“Sure you are,” he says sarcastically. “That’s why you’re sulking in your quarters by yourself.”

“I am not  _ sulking _ ,” Rex snaps. His General snorts and drops onto Rex’s bunk, sprawling across it like he owns it.

“Rex, you’re a full-blown thunderstorm in the Force right now.” The amusement fades from Anakin’s voice. “You know you can talk to me, right?” Rex’s shoulders sag. He knows that Anakin is the more stubborn of the two of them by a massive margin on a good day. Rex doesn’t even have the energy to fight it. He hasn’t slept well since he found out, his mind twisting into knots as he tries to pin down the myriad of emotions that have been his unwelcome companion since those cursed words left Tooka’s mouth.

“...There’s just… a lot,” Rex says lamely, running a hand over his fuzzy blonde hair. He’d just shaved it recently, and the texture is a familiar comfort. Anakin makes a sympathetic sound, straightening up on the bunk. Rex winces.

“He’s your brother, it’s understandable that you’d be upset that something like this happened to-”

“It’s not just that, though!” Rex blurts out. Anakin’s eyes widen. Rex bites his lip, leaning forward so that his elbows are on his knees and his gaze is firmly fixed on the dull gray floor. The only part of Anakin left in his field of vision are his worn boots, the black leather creased and covered in dust. “Fox and I… We’re adopted batchmates, but we’ve never gotten along well. Not like Cody and Fox do,” he adds quickly. “They’re… They fight and stuff, but it’s because they’re so  _ similar _ . They disagree on plenty of things, but at their cores there’s this level of  _ understanding _ .” He sighs, trying to pick apart the tangled threads in his mind and put them into something at least vaguely coherent. “Fox and I… We aren’t like that. I don’t- I don’t  _ think _ it’s because I’m not part of their original batch, because I click with the others just fine, but with Fox…” He exhales shakily. “I don’t  _ know _ . We’ve never  _ connected _ like the rest of the batch. He’s probably the batchmate I’ve gotten along the worst with, but…”

“But now he’s hurt,” Anakin says slowly. “You’re worried about him, because you care, but there’s still that part of you that’s frustrated with him, and you hate that part because ‘how can you think that kind of think after what’s happened to him’, right?” Rex’s jaw drops and he looks up to gape at Anakin incredulously. Since when has his emotionally constipated General been so good at discerning others’ thoughts?

“Y-yeah, but how…” Anakin huffs, a smile on his face. It isn’t as sincere as normal, a hollowness behind it as he begins to speak. 

“Obi-Wan and I argue,” he says. “...A lot,” he concedes after a moment with a wry look spreading across his face, startling a snort out of Rex. Anakin’s smile quirks up into something more  _ real _ and he continues. “When I get mad… sometimes it’s like there’s another voice in my head, whispering these terrible things about him, except it’s  _ my _ voice.” He grimaces, his good hand drifting to where his right arm turned from flesh to metal. “And it doesn’t just go away once I cool down.”

“...Sir,” Rex starts, but he hesitates. He doesn’t want to tell Anakin that he should go to a Mind Healer, not when Anakin is trying to help  _ Rex _ and is sharing what’s clearly a vulnerable part of himself in an effort to help. No matter how unsettling the thought of his General having another voice in his head whispering dark things is.

“You aren’t alone in dealing with these things, Rex,” Anakin assures him with renewed vigor, as if he hadn’t heard Rex at all. “Ahsoka and I are always willing to lend you an ear, er montrals?” Anakin coughs into his fist. “Whatever. You know what I mean.” Rex nods slowly, feeling somewhere between bewildered and amused. Anakin brightens up. “Good! Now, I know Ahsoka hasn’t been briefed on the situation, but I can go with you if you’d like to talk to Fox.” Rex cringes before he can catch himself.  _ That _ is a disaster just waiting to happen.

His message to Jesse sent, Fives finds himself wandering through the Guard’s barracks, keeping to himself as he watches them go about their daily business. They’re busy, is the thing that stands out the most to Fives. Sure, a war is never  _ restful _ , but there’s the chaos of battle and then there’s… this. There’s not the pounding urgency of enemies on the doorstep, but the Guard moves like they’re trying not to rush, like every muscle in their body is tense with restraint.

The rush mellows out as Fives moves further away from the Commanders’ office. By the time he reaches the barracks, most of the vode he passes in the halls aren’t in a visible hurry to get anywhere. At first glance, there’s Guard members lounging around the halls, in the barracks, but as Fives watches, he realizes that they all still seem to be  _ doing _ something. There’s datapads on laps, in hand, their owners’ fingers flying over the screen even as they chat with each other. It’s like they barely even have to try to split their attention between conversation and what can only be flimsiwork, and Fives can’t tell if it’s skill or if what they’re doing is just so rote that their bodies carry it out half on memory alone.

The thought doesn’t sit quite right in Fives’ chest. He’s joked just as much as the rest of his brothers about the Guard being paper-pushers and the Senators’ dogs, but he hadn’t realized just how insidious the truth in that had been. His stomach twists uneasily and he kicks off of the wall he’d been leaning against, walking away from the barracks. His feet lead him towards the medbay, and the change of pace in the hall is like a splash of cold water to the face. The urgency from before is back, medics hurrying around the room as several Guard members lie in beds in varying levels of armor. It’s not as bad as the post-battle deluges Fives has witnessed far too many times in his short life, but it’s still undeniably  _ busy _ .

There’s a brother groaning in pain, armor singed black and shrapnel trying its best to turn his arm into a pincushion. A sister is gritting her teeth, fingers white-knuckled against the edge of the table as a pair of medics work on pulling away the half-melted remains of her blacks off of her stomach. The lights are on for the Operating Room, and despite everything he’s learned so far Fives still can’t help but feel shocked. He doesn’t know what he’d been expecting the kind of injuries the Guard normally got, but it wasn’t this. Before he’d thought that their medbay must be a desert without a vod in sight, and then he’d figured there was probably blaster injuries and more broken bones than he could count, but this looks like something he’d expect to see coming back from a small skirmish, not an average day on Coruscant. And he can tell it  _ is _ an average day for them - the medics are focused, but it’s not that particular drawn thin look Kix gets after he’s been pulling a shift and a half trying to keep as many vode as possible alive. Nobody looks particularly alarmed, and Tooka is nowhere in sight when Fives knows that they’d be front and center barking out orders if something was seriously wrong.

Fives spots a familiar head of hair out of the corner of his eye and is pulled from his thoughts. He grimaces as he realizes that he’d been scowling, his jaw aching from clenching his teeth. He mimes a yawn, taking the opportunity to also stretch out his face muscles as he casually strolls over to the vod he’d spotted.

“Hey, kid,” he says cheerfully. Blast’s eyes fly open and he starts to jerk upright, but Fives quickly catches his shoulder and eases him back down. “Easy there, don’t want to re-injure whatever landed you here in the first place.”

“Fives!” Blast says, a smile lighting up his face. “I didn’t realize you’d be here again today!” Fives grins, ruffling the kid’s shaggy hair.

“Yeah, I’ll be sticking around for a while. Tooka wanted me to look into something while I’m on Coruscant for them to boss around.” Blast laughs and Fives taps his fingers against the bed. “So, what landed you in the dragon’s lair today? Last time I saw you, I’m pretty sure you were still in one piece.”

“I messed up a landing and broke my ankle,” the kid says mournfully, looking down at the offending limb with big brown eyes. “This  _ sucks _ , I  _ like _ using the grappling hooks but Sarge is going to hold this over my head for at  _ least _ a week.” Fives  _ almost _ asks about the grappling hooks, but quickly decides that he has more than enough new information rattling around in his head as it is, he doesn’t need  _ more _ .

“How long are they keeping you here?” Fives asks instead, focusing his attention on the bright-eyed shiny in front of him. Blast huffs.

“Slip says that I have to stay until latemeal,” he grouses. “Which is  _ so _ unnecessary.”

“Is it?” a medic demands as she appears at the foot of the bed. “You broke the bone in two!”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t a  _ bad _ break-” she throws her hands up in the air.

“When I said it was good it wasn’t broken closer to the joint, I didn’t mean it wasn’t  _ bad _ !” Fives snorts and the medic - Slip, probably - flushes. “O-oh. Sorry, sir.”

“It’s fine,” he says easily, bemused. “You’re as sweet as sugar, unlike  _ some _ of the sourpusses I have to deal with.” Blast snickers before he claps a hand over his mouth, eyes going wide. Slip’s lips are curling up at the edges as she fights back a smile and Fives hides a grin of his own. They both look younger with amusement lightening up their features, softening lines of stress and releasing some of the weight from their shoulders, and Fives feels something warm bloom in his chest.

He settles into his spot, more than enough time to spare as he waits for Kix and Tooka to emerge, and decides that he wants to see as much of that lightness as he can, even if he has to make every last drop of it himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 80% of this was stress written at 3am bc im lowkey ready to scream at stupid health stuff and doctors visits but!! spiteful motivation is still motivation and i'll take what i can get at this point
> 
> (also i may or may not have had a mini crisis when i was working out the timeline for this and realized that its only been like FIVE DAYS since the start of the story in universe. im also choosing to ignore the coruscant/sw calender bc thinking abt it too much gave me a headache and i refuse to do enough math to correct every time frame thus far and in the future where weeks/months are concerned. wack.)


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tooka is an asshole and fox finally lets himself feel Things (and gets some desperately needed comfort in the process)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: i cant think of anything but if there's smth lmk

Tooka’s nerves feel raw and exposed as they look at Kix’s shocked and horrified expression, but some of the tension in their chest has uncoiled, some of the weight slipping off their shoulders. As much as they hate to admit it, it feels  _ good _ to finally confide in somebody about the uncertainty that’s been slowly eating them up. Tooka does feel bad about how rattled Kix clearly is about this, though, and they grimace. They’re in no real place to settle anybody’s nerves, not right now, but… they might have an idea.

“Come on,” Tooka says, rising to their feet. Kix blinks a few times, looking up at them in confusion.

“What?” Tooka rolls their eyes, gesturing for him to get up.

“Get up. We’re going somewhere.”

“Why?” Kix asks as he stands, powering off his datapad and sliding it to the back of the desk. 

“To get food, obviously. It’s midmeal, remember?” Tooka’s fellow medic looks completely baffled at the change in topic, but they ignore him and head for the door. They pause in the doorway, looking back at where Kix is still standing. “...Unless you  _ want _ to stay here and keep doing research?” they ask pointedly, arching a brow. Kix shakes his head and jogs to catch up to them.

“Where are we going?” he asks, sidestepping a shiny limping his way towards the medbay. Tooka ignores him, because they’re a petty little shit and they know it, and he huffs. “Tooka!”

“You’ll see when we get there,” they say, not even trying to hide their smirk. Kix scowls at them, the turmoil from Tooka’s reveal vanishing as indignation wells up.

“You’re terrible,” he complains, bumping shoulders with Tooka. Their smirk only widens and Kix huffs. “Absolutely incorrigible.”

“You know it,” they say with a cheeriness they don't fully feel. There’s still that raw feeling grating down their nerves, a tingling at the back of their neck that they can’t quite shake. The feeling that they’re being watched is probably just paranoia, but… well, it’ll settle their nerves to be somewhere  _ else _ for a while.

“Are we going to be taking a speeder?” Kix asks, surprised, when they turn away from the main entrance to the Guard’s territory. Tooka shudders.

“Kriff no, I’m not paid enough to go on those things unless it’s a life or death situation,” they say vehemently. They’ve seen Coruscant’s traffic - and the many speeder crashes it causes - more than enough just from a distance. Kix snorts.

“Really? Speeders are where you draw the line?” he sounds too amused for his own good, and just for that Tooka is going to make them take the hard way there. “You’re lucky you’ve never been on a ship that General Skywalker’s piloting.”

“ _ Skywalker _ is lucky that I’ve never been on a ship he’s piloting,” Tooka says primly. “He’d regret it soon enough.” Tooka isn’t a genius medic by any means, but they are very,  _ very _ good at dredging up every single test they can reasonably force on a vic- er, a patient. Kix snorts again.

“Maybe we should let you at him, see if you can get something in through his thick skull.” Tooka grimaces. That’s probably their worst nightmare, short of the whole blackout situation.

“Don’t you kriffing dare,” they warn, narrowing their eyes and jabbing a finger in Kix’s direction. “I  _ refuse _ to deal with your  _ di’kut _ of a General.” Kix outright laughs at him and if Tooka wasn’t going to go the hard route before he was absolutely going to do it now. “By the way,” they say casually. “You have a grappling hook, right?”

“Wait, w-” They stick around just long enough to catch the look on Kix’s face before they’re laughing and jumping off the ledge, landing on the rooftop below and taking off running.

Tooka is lounging in a booth and sipping a milkshake by the time Kix reaches the diner, horribly out of breath and aching in places he didn’t realize he  _ could _ ache. Kix shoots them his most venomous glare but they just smirk, probably because he doesn’t look remotely intimidating like this, redfaced and drenched in sweat. Kix grumbles a few unsavory words under his breath as he drops heavily into the spot across from Tooka.

“Glad to see you finally made it,” Tooka says, like an asshole. Kix doubles down on his glare and Tooka just arches a brow, taking a pointedly long sip of their milkshake. “I went ahead and ordered something for you - it should be coming up in a minute.” Kix pauses, looking his fellow medic over critically.

“Did you get something besides a milkshake for yourself?” he asks reproachfully. Tooka is on the small side for a vod, shorter than average and lacking a fair amount of the muscle Kix is used to seeing on frontliners. Tooka rolls their eyes and sighs loudly.

“I’m  _ older _ than you,” they complain. “Where’s the respect, huh?”

“You aren’t  _ that _ much older!” Kix protests immediately. Tooka is one of the oldest of the CMOs, but there’s still not a huge difference in age between  _ any _ vode off Kamino.

“You were so cute as a cadet too,” Tooka continues on, ignoring him completely as they look off into the distance wistfully. “Following us around in the medbay and trying to hide behind the exam tables whenever we looked in your direction.” Kix flushes despite himself. Okay, yeah, he’d snuck into the medbay as a cadet despite not being flagged for medical training, but Tooka didn’t have to  _ bring it up _ !

“You’re the  _ worst _ ,” Kix says vehemently. Tooka snickers as a droid carrying a platter of food rolls up to the end of the table.

“Two bantha burgers and fried tubers,” she says.

“Thanks Flo,” Tooka says, grabbing one of the burgers and digging in. Kix prods his own hesitantly. He’s eaten stuff besides rations, of course - usually local flora and fauna during campaigns - but this is new territory. Tooka seems to see his trepidation and bumps their knees together. “Go ahead,  _ vod’ika _ , I swear it’s good.” Kix looks between the burger and Tooka, a skeptical look on his face.

“If I die from this, I’m coming back to haunt you,” Kix warns as he picks up the burger. Tooka grins.

“-and then Scoot and I dropped down and blocked him.” Fives nods absently as Blast chatters on, looking down at his comm with a frown. The situation with Dogma makes something itch in the back of his head, and he really should have made the time to check up on the kid. He sighs and Blast pauses, tilting his head. “Is something wrong?”

“Just some stuff going on with my squad,” Fives says, waving a hand. Blast frowns.

“Did one of them get hurt?” Fives’ smile is genuine, his heart warm at the sincerity of the kid’s concern.

“Nah, one of them just got really stressed and needed to take the rest of the day off.” After a moment of contemplation, Fives quickly taps a message out on his comms to the Captain, asking him to check up on Dogma and Tup.

“This early?” Blast asks, sounding shocked. Fives arches a brow, checking the chrono. It’s only a little past 1800.

“It’s not  _ that _ early, kid,” he says bemusedly. “We’re still technically on leave.” The medbay doors  _ whoosh _ open and Fives glances over on reflex. He straightens. “Kix!” The medic’s face falls almost comically fast.

“For Force’s sake- what did you do this time?” He’s at Fives’ side in a heartbeat, poking and prodding him. Fives lightly swats his hand away.

“I didn’t do anything,” he replies. Kix’s eyes narrow. “I didn’t!” he insists. There’s a snort as Tooka joins them, eyeing Blast.

“How’s your ankle doing, shiny?” they ask mildly. Blast  _ squeaks _ .

“F-fine!” Fives’ eyebrows shoot up. The kid has been downright ballsy in all of Fives’ exchanges with him so far, but  _ this _ is what breaks his audacity? Tooka isn’t even  _ trying  _ to be intimidating right now. Fives ducks his head to hide his smile and catches Kix’s eye. He jerks his chin in the direction of Tooka’s office with an unspoken question and Kix nods.

“Tooka, mind if I borrow your office for a bit?” Tooka waves him off absently, poking one of the machines nearby. It lets out an obnoxious beep and they grimace.

“Yeah, yeah. Just don’t break anything.” Kix bustles Fives into the small room like it’s his own office on the Resolute. Fives goes along bemusedly - the medic’s worrywort behavior is much more amusing when Fives isn’t the injured party.

“What did you want to talk about?” Kix asks, dropping down onto the stool shoved up against a table covered in flimsi and datapads. Fives leans back against the wall.

“I was talking with Thorn,” he says, cutting straight to the point. “He thinks that things started months ago, well before Fox got pregnant.” Kix frowns.

“Well kriff,” he mumbles, running a hand over his head. “Fox had one of these- episodes-”

“I’m familiar,” Fives says with a short nod. “I saw him come into the barracks yesterday walking strangely.” Kix grimaces.

“Ah. He came by this morning and Tooka checked him over - just some bruises, thankfully, but the scans are…” Kix worries his lip, drumming his fingers on the edge of the table as he searches for words. “His stress levels are insane,” he finally says. “I can’t say I blame him, with everything we’ve discovered, but…”

“You’re worried,” Fives surmizes easily. Kix can come off as an ass sometimes, usually when his patients aren’t listening to him, but Fives has seen him throw himself right back into the line of fire just to drag an injured brother out. He’s seen the sorrow on Kix’s face when he looks at the vode even Fives can tell are beyond saving, lingering for a long moment before he turns himself away. He  _ cares _ , and in a situation where anybody would be hard-pressed  _ not _ to care about the Guard, it just hits twice as hard. Kix sighs.

“This is so kriffed up,” he says tiredly. Fives makes a face.

“Yeah, it is,” he agrees. “Vod… go back to the barracks and call it a day.” Kix’s jaw drops and he goes to protest, but Fives holds up his hand. “You and Tooka both look wrung out, and Tup and Dogma turned in early too. If you need something to do, check on them.” Kix purses his lips before he pushes himself to his feet.

“...Fine,” he acquiesces. “But don’t think I’m going to let you get into the habit of ordering me to bed.” Fives snorts. If he tried that, he  _ knows _ he’d be getting several very painful hyposprays jabbed into unpleasant places.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he says dryly, and Kix’s lips quirk up. “Now, off with you. You might catch the Captain in the barracks if you go fast enough.”

Thorn raps his knuckles against the door and then immediately opens it. Fox looks up from his desk to glare at him balefully, but Thorn ignores him and plops down into the chair across from his brother. “Do you need something?” Fox asks flatly.

“How are you feeling?” Thorn’s conversation with the ARC trooper has stirred up that pot of worry in his chest, and he  _ needs _ to know that his brother is as okay as he can be. Fox must see something in Thorn’s expression, because he sighs and sets the datapad aside.

“I’m fine,” Fox says, which means absolutely nothing. Fox would say that while bleeding out. Fox  _ has _ said that while bleeding out. Thorn tries to communicate all this into the look he’s shooting at Fox and gets a scowl in response. “I  _ am _ .”

“I heard you had an episode last night,” Thorn says softly, and sees Fox stiffen. “How much time?”

“...Three hours,” the man admits reluctantly. “I’ve already been to Tooka - nothing but bruises.” Relief hits Thorn like a blaster bolt to the chest, knocking the air out of him.

“Good job,” he says, completely sincere, and Fox flushes and looks away. He’s never taken any kind of praise well, and Coruscant certainly hasn’t helped that. Thorn’s smile fades and he leans forwards in his seat. “Fox…” he starts, and his brother’s shoulders go up around his ears as he curls in on himself. “Fox, we need to talk about this- Cody, the investigation… everything.”

“Or we could not,” Fox mumbles petulantly. Thorn sighs and pushes himself up out of the chair. Fox flinches. Thorn’s heart aches, and he walks around the desk and hugs his brother tightly. Fox feels as rigid as beskar in his arms at first, before he slowly, incrementally, begins to relax. Thorn waits until Fox is mostly slack before he gently guides them down to the floor, pulling Fox closer to him. Fox exhales shakily, his face buried in Thorn’s chest as his fingers twist into Thorn’s blacks like they’re cadets again.

“You know we have to,  _ vod’ika _ ,” Thorn murmurs, reaching up run a hand through Fox’s hair. The silver around his temples has gotten worse, Thorn notes with a frown, but he knows there’s nothing he can do about it. “You can’t just bottle things up forever.”

“Watch me.” Thorn snorts.

“You wish.” The good humor is fleeting, and he sighs again. “C’mon, talk to me.” They sit in silence as the minutes tick by, but Thorn doesn’t push. He can see the struggle on Fox’s face, and he’ll give his brother all the time he needs if it means he’ll  _ talk _ .

“...You know what Cody’s temper is like,” Fox says finally.

“No, I don’t,” Thorn says evenly. “He’s  _ your _ batchmate, Fox’ika.” Fox frowns, but Thorn pulls him closer, tangles their legs together, and Fox continues.

“He’s… passionate. Prime always said he’d go out in a blaze of glory.”

“ _ Kote _ ,” Thorn says, with dawning realization. Fox nods, face still pressed against Thorn’s shoulder.

“Exactly. He was just… so fiery though, so dedicated, that we always worried he’d burn himself out. He was… he was smarter about it than Wolffe, but he never just let the trainers get away with anything. If it wasn’t a death sentence, he’d have argued with the Kaminoans too.” Thorn lets out a low hum so that Fox knows he’s listening, running his fingers through his vod’s hair as he talks. “Sometimes he just- he gets so caught up in righteous anger that he can’t think clearly. It’s… It’s what almost got him decommissioned.” Ice water pours down Thorn’s spine as he fights back a shiver. The thought that Cody, Marshall Commander and damn near the highest ranked clone in the whole army, was nearly decomissioned is… unsettling. Where would they be if he had been? Thorn shakes the thought off and drags his mind back to the present, back to the brother in his arms.

“Fox…” he says softly, his heart aching like hole in his chest. Fox twists to bury his face into the crook of Thorn’s neck.

“He… he overheard Tooka tell the 501st that- that it was me. I don’t know… he showed up in my office already seeing red, and… I think he was mad that I didn’t tell him.” Fox sounds confused, but Thorn doesn’t interrupt. Fox has always been better at thinking things through when he’s telling another person - otherwise he just bottles it up in that echo chamber in his head, convincing himself that he’s somehow responsible for whatever it is. “I… got mad at him for demanding personal information when- when we barely talk these days.” Fox’s shoulders pull up and he curls into Thorn. “...I compared it to me going to the  _ Negotiator _ and asking him if he’d- he’d slept with General Kenobi,” Fox mumbles. Thorn closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

“Vod,” he starts slowly, and Fox flinches. He rubs Fox’s back soothingly, waits until the tension has ebbed some before he speaks again. “That was a dick move.”

“I know,” Fox admits quietly, his voice painfully vulnerable. “I just… he stormed into my office and  _ demanded _ why I hadn’t told him. And- I was so  _ mad _ .”

“Fox, I  _ know _ ,” Thorn says, keeping his voice soft but firm. “I’m not judging you, alright? I just want you to talk through this. Just get it out there.”

“I-” Fox is shaking, a fine tremor through his whole body. Thorn frowns and tightens the arm around his brother’s shoulders. “I hate that there’s an investigation.” Thorn bites his lip and cards his fingers through Fox’s hair, shoving down his own instinctual reaction to the statement. This is about Fox. “I hate how many people know, I hate that you’re making me go along with this, I hate that you might  _ find out _ -” he chokes on a sob. “I want things to go  _ back _ before anyone knew anything.”

“Why?” Thorn asks gently. “Talk me through it.”

“Because- because I don’t want the men to see me falter,” Fox gets out, his voice cracking. “Because I like privacy. Because… Because I’m  _ scared _ .”

“And why are you scared?” It feels like Thorn is holding his breath, waiting for Fox to throw all his walls back up when they’re  _ so close _ .

“...I don’t want anybody to get hurt,” Fox whispers, and it sounds like Thorn’s heart breaking. Of course that’s what it boils down to. Fox is so kriffing  _ noble _ , putting everyone’s needs above his own, and Thorn just wants him to prioritize  _ himself _ for once.

“You’re scared that the investigation will trip over something big,” Thorn says, forcing himself to focus on the here and now. He feels Fox nod against his chest. “Alright.” He exhales slowly, rubbing circles on Fox’s back as he focuses on packing this new information away into boxes for him to sort through later. “Would it help if I give Fives another warning to be careful?” Fox hesitates for a long moment before he gives a short nod. “Then I’ll do that,” Thorn says firmly.

“Thank you,” Fox whispers into Thorn’s neck, clinging tighter to his brother. Thorn smiles sadly, although he knows Fox can’t see it.

“Of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hh this is. mostly filler. but i felt like there were too many loose ends left from several of the last povs so this is an attempt to tie that up.   
> and idk where all the Feelings TM in thorn's pov came from but im gonna blame it on watching all of the umbara arc last night


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: implied/referenced rape/non-con

Rex hears a knock on his office door. “Come in!” he calls out, signing off on the latest bout of flimsiwork. He glances up as the door whooshes open. His eyebrows shoot up. “Kix,” he says, surprised. Rex has to check the chrono to check that he hasn’t worked into the middle of the night again, but no, it’s still the afternoon, just barely creeping into evening. “You’re back early.”

“Yeah, Fives told me to call it a day,” Kix says casually, leaning against the wall even though there’s a perfectly serviceable chair in front of Rex’s desk. Rex arches a brow, propping his chin up on a hand.

“And you  _ listened _ ?” Kix’s lips curl into a smile.

“Just this once. I wanted to check in with you anyways, so…” he shrugs easily. Rex groans, setting the datapad aside.

“Kix…” he says warningly. The medic completely ignores him.

“There’s also the situation with Dogma, so three birds with one stone, I suppose.” Rex exhales heavily.

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?” he says tiredly.

“Nope,” Kix says cheerfully, finally dropping down into the chair. “We can start with Dogma, the investigation so far, or your feelings. Pick your poison.”

“...Dogma,” Rex decides, leaning back in his chair. Kix nods.

“Tup told me they’d talked to you.”

“Tup’s still awake?”

“He’s laying down and reading on his datapad,” Kix says. “Dogma’s asleep on top of him.” That’s at least somewhat good news. Force knows the kid needed some sleep after the hours he’d been pulling lately.

“Apparently, this whole situation has been bothering Dogma since day one,” Rex starts, leaning to rest his head on his hand. “Tup says it’s a thing he does - he just bottles up anything that he struggles with fitting into his world view or has questions that might seem insubordinate. He just keeps quiet about it until, well....” He gestures in the direction of the barracks. Kix grimaces, writing a note down on a crumpled piece of flimsi he’d pulled from his pocket. “It’s been a problem since he was a cadet.”

“Which part of this set him off?” Rex frowns.

“I assume it was the abuse of power, but he never actually said,” he says slowly, casting his mind back. “I talked about how the Jedi have a responsibility to us and how we have a duty to report breaches of that responsibility in order to maintain the system. He definitely seemed to calm down after that, and he fell asleep shortly after.” Kix nods, tapping a pen against his lips as he looks over the flimsi..

“That lines up with what Tup said,” he agrees. “Dogma’s been too on-edge to get a full night of sleep lately, so it’s a good sign that he relaxed enough to pass out like that.” Rex’s eye twitches.

“If you already talked to Tup, why did you need to talk to me?” he asks waspishly.

“I wanted your perspective too,” Kix says casually. “And again - birds, stone.” Rex scowls at him, and Kix doesn’t even have the decency to pretend to be cowed by it. “Now - investigation or feelings?”

“...Feelings,” Rex says begrudgingly, crossing his arms over his chest. He’d really rather  _ not _ talk about it - once was enough, thankyouverymuch - but he already knows the sitrep is going to take a while. Kix’s eyebrows shoot up, but he keeps his mouth shut.

“Alright. What’s been rattling around in your head lately, Captain?” Rex exhales heavily and runs a hand over his head.

“...I have talked about this some with Anakin,” he begins slowly. “But Fox and I have some… issues.”

“No shit.” Kix pauses and tilts his head. “Wait, did you mean together?”

“ _ Yes _ , I meant together,” Rex grumbles, already regretting this. “We don’t get along well even though we’re adopted batchmates.”

“And…?”

“You know what, let’s just go to the sitrep,” Rex says flatly. Kix narrows his eyes.

“I know what you’re doing,” he says, jabbing a pen in Rex’s direction. “Don’t think I’m letting this go.”  _ I wish you would _ , Rex thinks to himself, but he knows that’s about as likely to happen as Anakin saying he likes sand. He just stares back at Kix until the medic huffs and throws his hands in the air. “Fine! You can be happily repressed for the rest of the day!”

“Thanks,” Rex says dryly. “Now, the investigation…?” Kix slouches back into his chair.

“Well, it’s a hell of a lot worse than we thought.” A shiver goes down Rex’s spine.

“How so?”

“Every single member of the Guard has been losing time,” Kix says bluntly, all humor gone from his face. “It’s been going on since the very beginning of the war, and Commander Fox forbade anybody from looking into it further.” A familiar flash of frustration rises in Rex’s head - of course Fox had- he cuts the thought off harshly, guilt welling up in his chest.

“Kriff,” he mutters under his breath, dropping his head down into a hand. He waves off Kix’s concerned look. “Go on.”

“Right…” Kix says slowly, still eyeing him. “Fives and I only briefly touched base, so I don’t know how that’s going-” Which is probably for the best, if Rex is being honest. He’d pulled himself out of the investigation for a reason. “But the medical side of things is slow-going. One of Tooka’s junior medics was the one who discovered the pregnancy initially, so I’m thinking about having him start going through the Temple’s Archives while Tooka and I keep digging through our resources.”

“Isn’t Bly’s medic helping with that?” Rex asks with a frown. Unless Tooka also happens to be running  _ another _ research project, he can’t imagine what else it would be. Kix blinks, taken aback.

“Carrion is going through the holonet,” he explains. “How’d you know?”

“Bly mentioned it in a group chat,” Rex says evasively, ignoring Kix’s suspicious look. “They’ll be on Coruscant in a day or two, if you want to check in with him in person.” Kix perks up.

“I think I’ll do that,” he says absently, already deep in thought. Kix stands but stops before leaving the room. “Make sure to go to bed at a reasonable hour, Captain, or I’ll give Beat the authorization to sedate you.”

Rex is convinced there’s a smirk on Kix’s lips as the doors close behind him.

Sometimes, Stone really hates his job. Oh, it’s not for the reasons most people think - the Senators he escorts are annoying, sure, and he doesn’t exactly  _ enjoy _ trying to protect idiots who can’t keep their mouths shut, but that’s just the job. And normally, the good outweighs the bad - Stone’s always been the most free-spirited of the Guard’s commanders, an itch in his head that only goes away when he’s traveling, but then something like  _ this _ happens.

“I’m gone for  _ two weeks _ and everything goes to shit,” Stone grumbles to nobody as he signs off on a report. He’s only managed to pick up on the basics from the others - Fox had landed in the medbay and had been acting weird ever since, Thorn was doing his over-protective mother hen routine, and the kriffing  _ 501st _ were poking around the Guard. Even Thire doesn’t know what’s going on, and he’d covered for Fox  _ and _ Thorn the day after the mysterious medbay incident. “Fuck it,” Stone decides, pushing his chair back from his desk. He’s a commander too, and he’d like to know what the actual kriff was going on. Fox and Thorn are just going to have to suck it up.

Thorn’s comm places him in Fox’s office, so that’s where Stone is going to start. He almost reaches the door before he comes to an abrupt halt. He eyes the stack of flimsi on his desk. It probably won’t help Stone’s intimidation factor to show up with it, but… he  _ does _ need Fox’s signature... 

Stone gives in and grabs the flimsi.

He doesn’t bother knocking on Fox’s door. Stone just lets himself in, flimsi awkwardly wedged under one arm. He pauses. Fox isn’t at his desk, and the room is dark. At first, he thinks that the commander must have left, but as his eyes adjust he realizes that the lights  _ are _ still on - they’re dimmed to nearly nothing, but they’re on.

“Who is it?” Stone blinks, dropping his flimsi on the desk and taking a few steps forward. Thorn is slouched against the wall, Fox draped on top of him with his face buried in Thorn’s neck. There’s dried tear tracks on Fox’s face, and a sinking feeling starts to form in Stone’s gut. “Stone?” Thorn says, surprised.

“Yeah, it’s me.” Stone closes the door, squinting as the room is plunged into near-darkness. “Is he asleep?” There’s a low grumble and Fox presses his face even further into the crook of Thorn’s neck.

“He’s awake, but just barely,” Thorn says, sounding amused. He’s running a hand through Fox’s hair soothingly, and Stone frowns. He drops down onto the floor across from the two of them and Thorn huffs out a laugh. “Joining us on the ground?”

“Too much work to stand there and look down the whole time,” Stone says easily. “What happened?”

“Fox and I just talked some-” Thorn starts, but Stone cuts him off.

“I don’t mean just today, vod.” Thorn’s smile fades and his eyes flick down to Fox. “Something big happened while I was gone, and as a commander and a brother I’d like to know what’s going on.” Fox’s whole body goes rigid and Stone winces. Fox is about as reticent as they come, so Stone is used to needling him and edging him out of his comfort zone, but that doesn’t mean it ever gets easier to see him stiff and anxious, especially when Stone knows it’s something a hell of a lot bigger than going to a new restaurant or bar.

“Fox’ika…” Thorn murmurs softly. “Can I tell him?” After a long moment, Fox nods. He doesn’t lift his head from Thorn’s shoulder - if anything, he buries it even more. Thorn sighs and looks up to meet Stone’s eyes. “Fox is pregnant.”

“What?” Stone says, shocked. Of all the things he’d thought he might hear, this- this wasn’t even on the list. Thorn purses his lips.

“The other parent is apparently a Jedi,” he says grimly. “And it wasn’t consensual.” Thorn is clearly picking his words, but Fox still flinches. Very tellingly, he doesn’t deny it.

Stone exhales heavily, rubbing his temples. He’s still more shell-shocked than anything, the story so against the framework in his mind that he doesn’t know where to begin with it. Kriff, no  _ wonder _ the two of them had been acting all weird. Stone knows he’s already gearing for a massive headache, but better to get all his answers now while the iron’s still hot.

“And the 501st?” he asks, making sure his voice doesn’t betray his emotions.

“Investigating,” Thorn informs him flatly. Ah. Clearly he wasn’t happy about that, for all that he got along well enough with the ARC trooper Stone had talked to earlier. Stone hums, drumming his fingers against the ground. There’s a lot to unpack just from that one word.

One, the Guard were  _ not _ in charge of the investigation. Logical, but frustrating. Likely the reason Thorn was upset - he’d always been protective of Fox.

Two, some number of the 501st were aware of Fox’s situation. Definitely something he needs to look into. Stone might not understand Fox’s need for privacy, but he can enforce it with a vengeance if need be.

Three, there  _ is _ an investigation. That’s a relief, although there’s a thread of anxiety about what might get dug up. At least someone’s  _ finally _ looking into the glaring issues that the Guard has been trying to politely ignore for years. Stone can be thankful for that much.

Four, Fox wasn’t cooperating with the investigation. Oh, Stone’s sure he’s not interfering or trying to stop it, but the fact that it’s been almost a week without anything more than ‘Jedi’ to identify the attacker is pretty indicative that Fox is being close-lipped about the whole thing. Frustrating, but expected.

“Well, fuck.” Thorn snorts at Stone’s response and Fox raises his head to pin Stone with the most judgey look he can. It’s a look Stone is very familiar with, even if it’s coming from a commander currently sprawled on top of his brother like a particularly large tooka. Stone flips him off and Fox huffs, turning away and very pointedly shoving his face into Thorn’s shoulder. Thorn snickers as Stone rolls his eyes, but it accomplished what he’d wanted. ‘ _ What now?” _ he signs to Thorn. Thorn pauses, shifting Fox slightly to free up his own hands.

_ ‘What do you think?’ _ Stone squints at him, not quite able to tell if Thorn is being serious or just a smart-ass.

‘ _ Can’t out-stubborn him.’ _ Fox is possibly the most obstinate shabuir Stone has ever met, Senators included. He’ll bend where others are concerned, especially for if its for vode’s wellbeing, but when it comes to himself? Well, the only person Stone has seen win against Fox when he gets like that is Wolffe. Which… actually might be an idea.  _ ‘Wolffe?’  _ Thorn grimaces.

“I know you two are talking,” Fox says, voice muffled. He doesn’t look up. Stone chuckles.

“Oh, do you  _ want _ to hear about work now? Because I can-”

“Nevermind,” Fox says immediately. “Carry on.” Stone smirks, even though he know Fox can’t see it, and meets Thorn’s eyes.

_ ‘Bly’s going to be here soon,’ _ Thorn offers half-heartedly. Stone pauses, considering that. Bly’s a bit of a pushover, at least in comparison to the other CCs, but he’s always been pretty close to Fox. He’d even gone out drinking with them the last time the 327th had been on leave.

_ ‘Bly’s soft _ ,’ Stone says anyways, because he knows he’s going to have to be playing sith’s advocate here. Thorn frowns at him dissaprovingly and Stone arches a brow.  _ ‘He and Fox get along because he doesn’t push.’ _ Thorn winces.

_ ‘...He might, this time,’ _ he signs slowly. Stone frowns, gesturing for Thorn to continue.  _ ‘Cody found out when we told the 501st.’ _

_ ‘And you didn’t  _ mention _ that?!’ _ Stone signs furiously. Thorn scowls at him and flips him off.  _ ‘How bad?’ _

_ ‘Wasn’t there but Fox disappeared for a few hours after _ .’

_ ‘Normal or blackout?’ _

_ ‘Normal. Checked in with Tooka after.’ _ Thorn hesitates, glancing down at Fox.  _ ‘He had one yesterday, though.’ _

_ ‘How long?’ _ Stone asks, looking down worriedly at Fox. He hadn’t seen any injuries on his vod today, but…

_ ‘Three hours. Tooka cleared him - just some bruises.’ _ Thorn hesitates again and Stone can’t help but groan.

_ ‘Kriff, what  _ now _?’ _

_ ‘Fox is scared,’ _ Thorn starts slowly, a deep crease between his brows. This must have been bothering him already, then, which… isn’t a good sign. _ ‘There’s something big that might get us hurt and he’s afraid the investigation will reveal it _ .’ Stone bites his lip.

_ ‘Think that’s why he okay’d the 501st when he wouldn’t let us look into it?’ _ he asks carefully. Thorn’s eyes widen.

_ ‘Less expendable,’ _ Thorn signs grimly, and Stone nods. It’s not a pleasant thought, but it’s the truth. Skywalker would notice if one of his men disappeared, and he has the power and influence to make a fuss about it. The Guard… don’t. The only people keeping track of them are Fox and the Chancellor - and head of the Guard or not, Fox is still a clone. The less said about the Chancellor, the better.

_ ‘I’ve got a bad feeling about this.’ _ Thorn chuckles, but it’s a bitter, sour sound.

_ ‘Who doesn’t?’ _

_ ‘Let’s give Bly a shot at talking with Fox before we call in the big guns,’ _ Stone decides after the silence drags on uncomfortably long.  _ ‘In the meantime…’ _

_ ‘All we can do is support him,’ _ Thorn finishes. He sighs, running a hand down Fox’s back. “Alright, have it your way, vod,” he says aloud. “Now shoo before Thire has a breakdown from dealing with the 501st on top of the Guard.”

“Aye, aye, Commander,” Stone drawls, snapping his brother a sarcastic salute as he rises to his feet. Thorn sticks his tongue out at him like the immature tubie he is, and Stone very maturely ignores him and opens the door, causing his brother to hiss like an angry tooka as light floods the room.

“Motherfu-” Stone shuts the door behind him before Thorn can finish.

Fives wakes up to an unfamiliar beeping. He groans, throwing an arm over his eyes. It’s probably just another brother’s alarm for their shift, but damn. Something jostles his arm and it feels like a brother walking by, but- Fives sleeps on the top bunk. His eyes fly open.

The underside of the bunk above him isn’t a familiar one. Fives stares at it blankly, taking in the stickers covering the durasteel, peeling a little at the edges like they’ve been there for a while. Cartoony birds and trees stare back at him, stars dotting the area around them. 

A face appears above him, blotting out the stickers. “Oh hey, you’re awake!” Fives blinks and the vod moves back. He pushes himself up from the unfamiliar bed, looking around. He’s surprised to find himself in the Guard’s barracks, a familiar hubbub of brothers getting ready around him. Fives almost expects to see blue on their armor, but no- it’s still Guard Red.

“When did I get to the barracks?” he asks belatedly, after realizing that he’s been sitting there silently. The vod perched on the bunk across from him straightens up. The last thing Fives remembers is sitting in Tooka’s office digging through files, and then… nothing.

“You fell asleep in Tooka’s office so they had us bring you here,” the vod says, seemingly not at all bothered by this. Force knows that Fives would be weird if Kix had them bring a random vod to their barracks. “I’m Corks by the way. Junior medic.” The name niggles something familiar at the back of Fives’ mind, but he’s still fuzzy from waking up and can’t quite place it.

“Fives,” he responds absently, trying to think back. He knows he hasn’t met Corks face to face - the medic has brown hair only a few shades darker than their skin, with matching eyebrows that means its a mutation and not just a dye job. Between that and his near-shininess (Fives has a sixth sense for these things, he can always tell), Corks would have definitely stuck out in his memory. “I hope I didn’t kick a vod out of their bunk,” Fives says, shaking his head to set the problem aside. Corks smiles at him, dimples and everything.

“No, Cardinal offered when he heard you fell asleep. He had a night shift, so he’ll want his bed back soon, but it was fine overnight.”

“Cardinal?” Fives repeats skeptically, looking back up at the cutesy stickers that are definently made for nat-born children. Cardinal was nice and all, but he hadn’t really pegged the guy as the cartoony sticker type.

“I think Stone put them there as a joke,” Corks offers with a shrug. “Cardinal keeps them because he thinks its funny.”

“Ah. That makes much more sense.” Fives stretches, rolls out his neck. Corks cringes at the pops and cracking noises - definently a medic. Kix does the exact same thing. “Did Tooka send you to keep an eye on me?” The kid’s eyes nervously dart away, which is as good as a yes. Fives snorts.

“Well yes, but-” Corks blurts out, wringing his hands.

“It’s fine, kih’vod,” Fives cuts him off. “Kix probably filled their head up with some of the injuries he’s had to patch me up from.” Something tells him that the kid doesn’t believe him, even though he doesn’t know why. “You got any instructions for after I wake up?” Corks tilts his head, a small frown on his face. 

“Tooka just said to keep you away from the medbay,” he informs Fives. “They seemed pretty tired yesterday, so they probably want to take things as easy as they can.” Fives nods, a frown on his face as he rises to his feet.

“Kix was pretty wiped too. Has he shown up today?”

“I don’t think so?” Corks says hesitantly. “It’s still pretty early, though, so things are kinda slow.” Fives looks around at the clamor of brothers gearing up for the day, night shifters starting to trickle in and collapse on their bunks, exhausted, and arches a brow skeptically. ‘Slow’. Sure. Still, if most people aren’t up and moving quite yet, then that puts a bit of a kink in Fives’ plans. He pauses as a thought starts to form.

“Hey kid,” he starts, and Corks immediately looks suspicious. “You boys wouldn’t happen to have training rooms around here, would you?” The kid’s face falls, almost comically fast, into resignation.

“Yes, sir,” Corks says wearily, as if the mere thought of sparring with Fives has already tired him out. Fives pats him on the shoulder and smiles with a little more teeth than usual.

“Come on, kih’vod. We’re going to have some  _ fun _ .”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unfortunatley my situation has managed to get *worse*, so who knows when the next ch will be finished. it might take a while bc i can barely look at a screen half the time, but when have i ever let little things like that stop me?
> 
> also i swear im reading everybody's comments!! i just havent been replying to them bc my brain is mush rn


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: implied/referenced rape/non-con, implied/referenced abortion

When Kix gets to the Guard’s HQ, the halls are surprisingly empty. Even spending most of his time in Tooka’s office, he’s gotten a pretty good idea of just how busy the Guard is and this is well below what he’s come to expect. Kix pauses, just watching for a moment. He’s standing at an intersection of two hallways, but between the both of them combined there’s only a handful of Guards. He approaches the nearest vod, who straightens up when he sees Kix.

“Where is everyone?” he asks, a small frown on his face.

“Oh, apparently an ARC trooper is down in the training rooms and is sparring with anybody who asks.” Kix takes a deep breath and looks skyward. Of course its Fives. Really, he should have known. Tooka had even let him know that he was spending the night, but the optimistic part of Kix had thought he couldn’t get into trouble _this_ quickly. “Um… Do you want me to show you there?” the vod asks hesitantly.

“As long as you aren’t busy,” Kix says, glancing at the door they were standing in front of.

“Nothing that can’t wait an hour or two,” the Guard member says with a shrug. “I’ve been wanting to check it out, anyways.” They start off down the hall and the vod takes his bucket off, tucking it under an arm. “I’m Lock, by the way.” Lock exchanges nods with another Guard member as they pass.

“Kix.” Lock glances over at him.

“The 501st’s CMO?” he asks, surprised. Kix snorts.

“I see my reputation has proceeded me,” he says dryly. Lock grins.

“Not really, but Tooka kept grumbling about you last night when I was trapped in the medbay with a broken hand.” Kix sighs, not at all surprised.

“That sounds like them,” he says dryly, and Lock chuckles.

“You two are familiar, then?” he asks, shooting Kix a sideways grin.

“Us CMO’s have to stick together,” Kix replies easily. “It’s us versus everyone else’s stupidity.” Lock winces.

“Okay, that’s fair.” He rubs one of his hands absently. “I guess that’s why Tooka’s never in a good mood.” Kix snorts.

“Tooka has _never_ been in a good mood,” he scoffs. “They exist in a perpetual state of having their feathers ruffled.” Lock ducks his head to hide a smile as they turn down another hallway. There’s more brothers lingering in the halls here, with a number hovering just outside of an open doorway. Kix tips his head in the direction of it. “I’m guessing that that’s our destination?” 

“Yeah.” Lock wrinkles his nose as they get closer, audible cheering coming from the room. “I was kind of hoping it would have cleared out a bit more.”

“Are you kidding?” a vod in his blacks says, turning to face them. “This is the best thing we’ve seen in months!”

“What, Fives sparring with half the Guard?” Kix arches a brow. “How long has he been going at this again?”

“Couple of hours, but he’s been taking breaks and letting other people use the mats. I think one of the shinies set up a little tournament thing.”

“Not going to join in yourself, vod?” Lock asks curiously. The unnamed brother wrinkles his nose.

“Medic’s orders,” he says dryly, reaching down and knocking on his shin. There’s a faint metallic sound, and Kix realizes he must have gotten a full prosthetic recently. No wonder the Guard’s medics wouldn’t let him spar. The change from a temporary prosthetic to a permanent one wasn’t always the most pleasant, given the amount of work needed to properly set up the port.

“Are you allowed to be on your feet for this long?” he asks, running his eyes over the vod, checking for trembling or favoring the new leg. The man snorts.

“Medics,” he says with a grin. “I’m all good. Tooka said I’m supposed to be walking on it to adjust, so no need to drag me to the medbay.”

“Right,” Kix mutters under his breath, shaking his head. He supposes there are _some_ troopers who actually listen to their medics. He just has yet to ever meet one. He starts to push through the crowd, elbowing several vode just to get them to move. When he finally makes it to the front of the crowd, he stops.

Fives is currently tussling on the mat with another brother, laughing as he pins the man down in a headlock. With a groan, the vod taps out and Fives rolls off of him, hopping up to his feet and offering up a hand to his defeated companion. “Good fight, brother,” Fives says as he pulls the man up to his feet, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Easy for you to say, you’ve been _winning_ ,” the vod shoots back, but he has a good-natured smile on his face. He pats Fives’ shoulder and walks over to the brown-haired shiny Kix recognizes as Corks, one of Tooka’s medics. Fives laughs and looks up, spotting Kix in the crowd.

“Mat’s all yours, boys! I’m taking fifteen!” he calls out loudly before jogging over. He’s sweaty and there’s bruises starting to form here and there, but his smile is wider and more carefree than its been since Echo died. “Heya Kix,” Fives says cheerfully as he reaches them. “You aren’t here to chew me out, are you?” Kix snorts.

“Not this time,” he says dryly. “I was going to visit Tooka but the halls are practically a desert out there and I was curious.”

“Really?” Fives asks, looking around. “...I didn’t realize _that_ many people showed up to watch,” he says, a bit sheepishly. “I woke up during the morning shift change and needed to burn off some energy.”

“And you dragged poor Corks into it?” the unnamed vod says, sounding amused. “The kid was just laying face-down on the mats for a solid ten minutes after you let him go.” Fives makes a dismissive noise and waves him off.

“It’s character building,” he says, but there’s a hint of a smile dancing at the corners of his lips. “You’re, uh, Atin, right?” The vod - Atin - blinks, surprised.

“Yeah, that’s me. How’d you know?” Fives grins.

“I remember Corks saying _very_ empathetically that you couldn’t join in on the sparring while his arms were full of water bottles.” Atin snorts.

“Hydration is important,” Kix says with a sniff, and Fives snickers like the little shit he is.

“He was holding way more bottles than he could carry,” Atin explains. “Like… he was dropping bottles as he went.” Kix glances over at where the younger medic is watching the current match from the sidelines, med kit at his side. Indeed, there’s a bunch of bottles sitting next to him, and almost every single one of the vode around, all sweating heavily and clearly having gone a round or two, has an identical bottle in their hands. Kix is… actually a little impressed. Water after a workout isn’t usually something any clone in their right mind would turn down, but the scale of it is impressive, especially considering how long he and Fives have been there.

“How _does_ he have so many bottles?” Kix asks curiously. Unless the kid had brought a frankly ridiculous amount of bottles over to begin with, there was no way there should be over a dozen untouched ones just sitting off to the side. Fives huffs out a laugh.

“Two of the Guardlings have been filling up bottles and collecting the empty ones from vode,” he says, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder at a cluster of three _very_ baby-faced shinies. “Blast has been running the little tournament thing that started up, so Scoot and Hash have been making themselves useful.”

“What, they didn’t want to go a round or two in the rings themselves?” Kix asks good-naturedly, but Fives makes a face.

“They’re _eight_ , I’m not going to spar with them.” Kix’s jaw drops. He’d been frustrated when Dogma and Tup’s batch of nine-year-olds had shipped out, but to hear that they were sending out _eight-year-olds_? He’s never had any illusions that the Kaminoans were good people, but… kriffing hells.

“ _Demagolke_ ,” he mutters under his breath, rubbing his temples. It’s just a year, but-

But they would be sixteen if they were nat-borns. Not even men in most cultures - even Mandalorians, for all that one officially became an adult at thirteen, didn’t truly cut their children loose until at _least_ eighteen. They haven’t even been alive a full decade, and they’re already getting sent out of Kamino. “ _Demagolke,_ ” he repeats, scrubbing a hand over his face.

A year is a lot of time, for a clone.

He feels a hand on his back and looks up to see Fives, a sympathetic smile on his face, Kix’s own turmoil reflected in his eyes. “...I don’t suppose you’d be willing to go a round?” he asks, a bit desperately. Fives just pats his shoulder.

“Vod, I’d _love_ to.”

Corks is tired. That’s an understatement, really, considering the day he’s had, but it’s the only word that comes to mind. Fives is nice and all - he’s great, really - but he’s an ARC trooper and Corks… is not. Corks is a medic, not even a battlefield medic, and while he’s certainly strong enough for what he does, there was never any way he was going to go toe-to-toe with an ARC and have even the slimmest chance of winning. Still, Corks sits by the mats and keeps an eye on the spars, thrusting water bottles at various vode whenever they finish. Tooka told him to keep an eye on Fives, and Corks will damn well do that.

He has his own niggling feeling, anyways, a suspicion that he can’t quite pin down. He knows what most of his vode don’t - Fives isn’t here for leisure or for socializing. He’s here for _work_ . He’s here because Fox is pregnant and something is _wrong_. Corks might have been kicked out of the exam area as soon as the Commander seemed like he was about to pass out, but he knows that much. He just hopes that Fives is here to fix it.

Corks is pulled from his thoughts by the two clones in the ring finishing up, joking and laughing with each other as they amble over. Corks hands both of them water bottles, which are taken with a grateful nod and a smile as the duo go settle down against the wall with the other vode who are done or taking a break. Then he looks up and kind of wants to cry.

Because Fives is _back in the ring_ . Sure, the older trooper took breaks and ate and drank water, but they’d been at this for _hours_ . How in the seven Correlian hells was he not _exhausted_? Corks is so caught in despairing for his own sanity that he almost overlooks the trooper who follows Fives onto the mats. It takes a glimpse of lightning bolts out of the corner of his eye before he realizes that it’s the 501st’s CMO that’s about to go head-to-head with Fives.

Crying is becoming a better and better idea by the minute. Medics are supposed to be the _sane_ ones, they aren’t supposed to challenge ARC troopers to sparring matches! Kix wanders over to Corks’ side of the mat, shooting Corks a sympathetic smile as he quickly gets rid of the upper half of his armor. As the armor comes off, Corks realizes that _maybe_ it’s not quite as far-fetched a match as he’d first thought. Corks is used to Tooka and the other Guard medics, but Kix is very much a _battlefield_ medic, and without the bulk of armor in the way, it shows. Corks very nobly resists the urge to look down at himself and sigh wistfully.

That aside, though, there’s a distinct tension in Kix’s shoulders and a frown tugging at his lips. Corks frowns. Fives doesn’t look as carefree as he had earlier, either, but it’s even harder to tell than with Kix - a jaw clenched, a tightness around the eyes, and that’s it. Then they snap into motion, and it’s immediately clear that something is definitely bothering them. Kix is throwing himself into the fight, and while Fives is smiling it’s not as light as it was before. Corks bites his lip as he watches the match quickly dissolve into grappling and wrestling on the mats, Fives’ increased muscle mass lending him a small advantage in weight and strength while Kix manages to wiggle out of every pin the ARC throws his way. There also might be elbows involved, but it’s a little hard to tell at such a close range.

It’s definitely not the most intense match Corks has seen today - and he’s seen a _lot_ \- but there’s still a sort of desperate catharsis about it. By the time the two of them finish - getting in a number of hits that make Corks cringe in sympathy just _looking_ at them - they both look a little more relaxed, a little more at ease. Fives is even giving Kix a hand up when the crowd of vode suddenly quiet, parting like the seas to let a familiar figure in.

Commander Fox looks around the room, and Corks straightens up. Fives and Kix do too, although they’re not as obvious about it as the other Guard members. “What’s going on here?” Fox asks, voice mild. Corks can see several brothers cringing just from the tone, but Fives squares his shoulders.

“Hey, Commander!” Fives says cheerfully. Fox stiffens when he spots the ARC trooper. “We’ve been sparring, a little friendly competition and all that. You want to join?” Corks’ jaw drops. He’s seriously starting to think Fives is absolutely _nuts_ \- ARC trooper or not, who just challenges a _Commander_ like that?! All the CCs went through ARC training too, on top of whatever CC-exclusive stuff they learned, they were on a whole other level! And Commander _Fox_ , of all people?

Even ignoring the many, _many_ accomplishments that had made the man one of the most decorated members of the GAR, Corks’ medic brain won’t let him forget the numerous issues regarding the other man’s health - the pregnancy first and foremost. And he _knows_ that Fives knows about it, which just makes this whole thing even more ridiculous! Surely Fox won’t-

“Sure,” Commander Fox says.

“Sir-” Corks protests, rising to his feet. All three look over at him. “You shouldn’t-”

“It’s fine,” Fox says tersely. Corks bites his lip, but that’s a tone he’s all too familiar with - a trooper digging in their heels. He’s not going to listen, no matter what Corks says. His shoulders slump. Kix gently takes Corks’ arm and guides him back to the edge of the mats, leaving Fives and Fox alone in the middle of the ring.

“Shouldn’t we stop them?” Corks asks the other medic, although he’s not particularly optimistic about the answer. Kix gives him a sideways look and arches a brow. Corks sighs. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“Don’t worry too much, kid,” Kix says, patting Corks on the shoulder as he sits down next to him. “Fives can be careful. I did want to talk to you about something, though.” Corks blinks, looking over at Kix in surprise.

“Me?” he asks, a bit at a loss. Kix was working with Tooka, what would he need a junior medic like Corks for? Kix nods as he grabs his discarded armor and starts putting it back on.

“Yeah. Since you’re already aware of the situation,” his eyes flick over to Fox for half a second. “I wanted to see if you’d mind going through the Jedi Archives to see if they have anything useful for... cutting things short.” Corks’ eyes widen.

“The- the _Jedi_ Archives?” he squeaks out. Kix nods.

“We have permission to use the Archives as a resource, but Tooka and I are a bit overwhelmed with the stuff we’ve already found.” Corks is saved from having to answer by the sound of plastoid meeting plastoid. His eyes snap back over to the ring. Fives must have aimed a kick for Fox’s head, but the Commander had caught the blow on his arm and they were locked in a standoff as they waited for the other to move.

After a long moment, they burst into a flurry of motion and Corks’ eyes can barely keep up. They’re both clearly holding back some - Corks very much appreciates the conspicuous lack of blows to Fox’s abdomen, _thank you_ Fives - but it’s clear that they’ve both got some investment in this fight.

Corks sighs and settles in to watch.

Fox watches Fives with narrowed eyes, arms held up in a ready stance. He hadn’t expected to run into the other trooper here, but… he can’t hide forever. Maybe if Fox talks to him in person Fives won’t end up dead. Of course ‘talk’ is a relative term, considering they’re in a sparring ring, but violence was always their first language.

The kick Fives aims at his head is testing. Probing. Fox blocks it with an arm, straining slightly as Fives tries to keep pushing. He meets Fives’ eyes. There’s questions there, a turmoil that Fox hadn’t expected. It catches Fox off guard just long enough for Fives to pull his leg back and launch into a new attack.

Fox has forgotten how good sparring with a brother feels. There’s this kind of rhythm to it, a pattern that nobody but another clone could feel. Fives’ attacks are a reflection of his role on Coruscant - jabbing probes meant to suss out his weak spots while keeping him too busy to retaliate. Well. That might be a bit unfair to Fives, who Fox has heard nothing but compliments about since the investigation started (minus Tooka, of course, but they were approving in their own, slightly-backhanded way). Still, Fox has spent his time on Coruscant doing almost nothing _but_ protecting his weak spots - from Senators, from Criminals ~~, from the Chancellor~~.

He aims for the groin. Is it a cheap shot? Probably. Does Fox care? Not really. It’s how he’s made it this far, crawled his way up to the top and held on with chipped nails and bloody fingers and refused to let go. Fives blocks it, although Fox does get a dirty look, redirecting Fox’s knee to the side and aiming for- Fox wrinkles his brows, confused. The most logical thing to have done would be to go for Fox’s stomach, even with armor on, but Fives had gone past that and elbowed him in the ribs instead.

It’s not until he meets Fives’ eyes again that he remembers. Right. The fetus. His stomach drops. He can’t believe he got so caught up in the euphoria of sparring with a brother again that he forgot about the thing growing inside of him. Fives gives him a slightly sympathetic look but Fox scowls - even if it’s not visible through the helmet - and aims for a cluster of nerves the hurt more than incapacitate. He misses, but it’s enough to make Fives hiss in pain. “You’re really in a bad mood, huh?” Fives quips, although it’s a bit strained. It’s quiet enough that none of the others can hear them.

“You don’t know what you’re dealing with,” Fox informs him lowly, jabbing his thumb into the sciatic nerve. Fives swears and aims for Fox’s legs, but Fox dodges the sweep and the subsequent attack.

“I would if you _told_ us,” Fives insists, not letting up for a second. He’s tired, worn down, clearly having been at this for a while, but even so he’s barely giving Fox a second to catch his breath. Fear races up Fox’s spine and Fives kicks out the back of one of his knees. Fives hesitates to follow through, though, a split second of indecision on his face, and Fox tackles him.

“I _can’t_ ,” Fox snarls, trying to pin the other clone down but never quite getting enough leverage. “I can’t and even if I _could_ , it’s too dangerous!” Fives scoffs, managing to eel out just enough to flip the pin around.

“Everything worth doing is dangerous,” he says dismissively, but there’s bone-deep seriousness under the light tone. “That’s how you know it’s worth it.” Fox stills, swallowing hard.

“I’m _not_ worth it,” he whispers, so quiet that he’s not sure Fives even hears him until he sees the other clone’s eyes widen slightly. Fox promptly headbutts him. He throws Fives off of him and sits on his back. A sharp jerk of his head in Corks’ direction gets the kid scrambling to his feet to call the match.

Fox barely waits for him to finish before he’s gone.

(“Well that went well,” Kix says dryly. Fives shoots him a glare, holding a towel up to his bleeding nose.

“Shut up.”)

Bly sighs and looks at the chronometer. Nearby, Carrion groans. “I swear, if you sigh _one more time-_ ”

“He’s just worried,” Aayla says, bemused, as she comes to stand behind Bly, putting her hands on his shoulders. He tries very hard not to lean into her touch.

“Well, he can go be worried somewhere else,” Carrion grumbles, but he glances over at them and sighs. “...I know,” he says, softer this time. “Sorry, I think these reports have me a little high-strung.”

“You’re always high-strung,” Bly shoots back immediately and Carrion makes a face at him. “Are those the reports about…?” Carrion’s expression falls.

“...Yeah.” His hair is falling out of the short nerf-tail he keeps half of it pulled back in, and he tucks some of the loose strands behind his ear. “The ones who have always been 327th are pretty much all fine - there was one encounter with a civilian woman that was caught pretty quickly.” Bly nods, the story faintly familiar. He very deliberately does not try to remember which vod had been on the report. They deserve that sliver of privacy, at least.

“What about the rest?” Aayla asks, her grip on Bly’s shoulders tightening slightly. Normally he wouldn’t notice, but he’s officially off-duty and in his blacks. The pressure is reassuring, though, helps him keep his mind here and not drifting off towards Coruscant.

“That one squad we got from the 193rd were all hit. A nat-born officer, apparently. He died in the attack that killed off the rest of the battalion, though.” Bly forces himself to take a deep breath, in and out. The former-193rd had been part of the 327th for well over six months. Not a single one had gone unscathed, and Bly hadn’t had a clue.

“How bad?” Aayla asks, one of her hands moving to run across Bly’s head. It’s a thing, he’s noticed, with Twi’lek’s and some of the other hairless races. They like playing with hair, and shaved heads are almost fascinating. One of the waitresses at 79s had said it was the texture, he thinks, but he doesn’t really care. He just knows that Aayla likes it, finds it soothing, and that’s all that matters. Carrion blows a strand of hair out of his face.

“Varying degrees. They’re still being kind of cryptic but I think the guy was mostly just… handsy.” Bly can see Aayla pursing her lips in the reflections of the glass. She keeps petting his head.

“He is lucky he’s dead,” she says tersely, and alarm spikes through Bly. He’s never heard her use that tone before - her master, maybe, but General Vos was _different_. He puts his own hand - scarred, thick-fingered, calloused - over the one she has on his shoulder. It dwarfs her hand, hiding long, elegant fingers that hide masterful skill. He looks up at her worriedly. She glances down at him and sighs, the hard expression on her face melting away. “I am sorry I worried you, Commander,” she murmurs, squeezing his hand softly. “Please continue, Carrion.”

Carrion is looking at them with a distinctly unimpressed expression on his face, but he clears his throat and goes back to the datapad. “Right. I’ve found a dozen or so incidents that toe the line - I made sure that they have access to the Jedi Healer you recommended, General.” Some of the tension in her shoulders fades and she smiles at Carrion. “There’s only a handful of cases that are actually alarming, and I’ve made sure that they all have individual appointments scheduled with me so I can look into it further.”

“So most everybody else is fine?” Bly asks, a little desperately. Carrion shoots him a look that says he’s not fooling anyone, but nods.

“It seems so. I think that the General would have caught any bad apples if something had happened under her command.” Aayla winces.

“Distress like that… is easy to pick up on,” she agrees. Bly moves his head slightly and she absently starts running her hand over his hair again. “I’d imagine that most battalions who have a close relationship with their Generals are likely to have similar numbers. It’s the ones under nat-born officers that we should probably keep the most eye on.” Carrion winces and Bly narrows his eyes.

“...Maybe the battalions where the clones aren’t too close with their Jedi too,” he says awkwardly, and Bly’s stomach drops. He has… a very bad feeling about this. “If they aren’t as familiar with the troopers they might not realize what exactly the warning signs are,” Carrion says quickly. “Especially since most vode wouldn’t fess up if a _Jetii_ asked them to their face.” Aayla sighs.

“Perhaps after we land on Coruscant, you could go about contacting other medics to start going through their own battalions?” she suggests, sounding worn down in a way that makes Bly’s heart ache.

“That sounds like a good idea, General,” Carrion agrees, rising to his feet. “I want to check in with Tooka and Kix first, but I’ll contact everybody after.” He gives them a salute and then jogs out of the room, datapad still in hand. Bly hears Aayla sigh again.

“It feels as if this war just unveils more and more horrors as it goes on,” she says quietly. Bly squeezes her hand reassuringly, but there’s nothing more for him to say. She squeezes back, a small smile on her lips. “Would you mind too terribly if I asked you to accompany me to the meditation rooms?” she asks.

“Not at all,” Bly says quickly, rising to his feet. This unfortunately takes her hand off of his head, but Bly has learned to take what he can get. “Maybe I’ll even try to meditate with you.” That gets her to laugh, and some of the heaviness in his chest eases.

“I’m sure that will go well,” she says with a smile, and looking at her it feels like everything’s right in the universe. Whatever darkness the rest of the galaxy has out there, as long as Bly has Aayla’s light at his side, he thinks he can handle it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think that this is the longest ch yet and thats by complete accident. fox's pov showed up and demanded to be included and i had no choice but to oblige. and then bly showed up and kept going on too.
> 
> on a more positive note, i think my meds have finally stopped w/ the worst of the side-effects so i will hopefully be able to write more! amazing how easy it is to feel motivated when you dont feel like complete garbage


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anakin please go to therapy (fox too, tbh)

Thire grimaces as he looks down at the message on his comm. He’s been  _ aware _ of the whole sparring tournament  _ thing _ going on (and no, he’s  _ not _ jealous that he can’t participate, shut  _ up _ Hound), but he’s been trying to avoid dealing with it. It’s on Guard turf, there’s medics keeping an eye on it, it’s  _ fine _ . He doesn’t need to go interfere.

And then Fox had to show up. Because  _ clearly _ there wasn’t enough gossip fuel about the medbay incident already - which  _ Thorn _ at least had the decency to thank Thire for - so the Commander just  _ had _ to go and  _ spar with the kriffing ARC trooper! _

Thire’s comm is suddenly hit with a whole new wave of notifications and he groans, opening a random one. There’s a video. Thire’s brows shoot up. He glances over at Hound, who shrugs and shoves himself into Thire’s space so that they can both see the holovid.

“That’s the 501st’s guy, right?” Hound checks, squinting at the figure facing off against Fox. It’s a little hard to make out any distinguishing traits - the vod has the standard haircut, his upper armor nowhere in sight, but Thire thinks the little squiggle on his temple might be a five. He shrugs and hits play. Immediately, the familiar cacophony of brothers cheering and talking excitedly fills the room. Hound grimaces and mutes the video. It’s not like they’d be able to hear anything important, anyways, so Thire lets him.

Fox fights  _ mean _ . Thire is painfully, intimately aware of this fact. Sparring with the Commander is informative, sure, and you usually don’t get actual  _ injuries _ , but holy  _ kriff _ . Thire hadn’t even realized his body could hurt like that until he’d gone up against Fox. He can see that same realization echoed on Fives’ face as Fox hits what’s probably a nerve cluster.

Fives is no slouch either, though. He gets in some good shots, and he’s certainly not letting Fox’s tactics slow him down much. But… Thire squints as he looks closer. There’s something strange about how he’s attacking, but he can’t quite pin it down.

“Hey…” Hound says slowly, not looking away from the holovid. “Is it just me or is he avoiding Fox’s stomach?” Thire blinks and rewinds the video.

“You’re right,” he says, surprised, as Fives ignores the opportunity given by Fox leaving his stomach open and instead aims for the ribs. It’s not super obvious at first glance, but when paying closer attention it practically jumps out at him. Anybody not familiar with ARC techniques would have probably missed it, but Hound has been around Thire enough to have picked up on some of the quirks. “Huh.”

“Think he got injured or something?” Hound asks, reaching over Thire’s arm to rewind the video himself. Thire scowls at him and slaps his hand away. Hound might be on to something, though.

“That would explain why Tooka and Thorn have been all worked up lately,” Thire says as the cogs in his mind start to turn. “Especially if it was from a blackout.” They both share sympathetic grimaces. Thire’s had more than his fair share of blackouts, and, while Hound doesn’t get them as often as Thire, his brother struggles with the aftermaths of them just as much.

“Grizzer’s actually been all over the Commander lately,” Hound remarks absently, watching as Fox headbutts Fives in the face - ouch - and the two scramble upright. “I wonder if he can tell that Fox needs like… all the hugs. And also probably therapy.”

“Who doesn’t?” Thire mutters, jabbing the close button a bit vindictively. “Bit late for him to start picking up on that.” Hound huffs and pinches Thire right between the plates of his armor. Thire yelps and jerks back. “Kriffing- Don’t  _ do that _ , asshole!” Hound just sniffs.

“Then don’t insult my baby.”

“I didn’t-” Thire groans and gives up. There’s no winning with Hound when he goes into ‘proud parent mode’. The masiffs can do no wrong and Hound refuses to be convinced otherwise. “I hate you.” Before Hound can retort, the door opens and Stone pops his head in.

“Hey, is the report on the sewer narglatch mission in here?” He pauses, taking in the scene - Hound crowded into Thire’s space as Thire leans as far back as he’s able to. “...Did I interrupt something?” The Commander sounds far too amused for Thire’s continued sanity, so he decides to take a page out of Fox’s book and elbow Hound in the stomach.

His brother goes sprawling to the floor with a loud squawk, unfortunately taking a stack of flimsi and datapads with him. He just lays there for a moment, groaning, not even trying to extract himself from the mess.

“...I think I found the report,” Hound says, lifting the piece of flimsi off of his face to hold it aloft in the air, his arm sticking up from the mess like a flag. Stone walks over and takes it from him, skimming the document. Hound’s arm drops back down to his side like a limp noodle and he makes no effort to get up or otherwise move out of the way. Thire toes him in the side pointedly but Hound just swats his foot away.

“Hey, yeah, this is it,” Stone says, looking up from the report. He sounds a little bewildered but mostly amused, lips curling into a smile as he looks back down at Hound. “You comfy down there, trooper?”

“Yes, sir,” Hound says, lazily saluting Stone. Stone snorts.

“Well, I’ve got what I needed. You two have fun!” He walks out the door, prize in hand, leaving Thire and Hound alone in the mess of an office. They’re silent for a long moment.

“...You still have to clean that up.” Hound groans, dropping his arm over his face dramatically like he isn’t one of the most extra shabuirs in the whole damn Guard. Thire rolls his eyes and gets back to work.

The Guard isn’t going to run itself, after all.

Rex stares at the door for a moment, nervousness starting to trickle back in. He’d made up his mind before leaving his office, but now, standing outside of Anakin’s door, the reality of the situation is starting to sink in. He’s actually going to do this.

The chances that this blows up in Rex’s face are high. Anakin is not what one would describe as an emotionally fluent person, and Rex is going into this knowing that he’s going to be prodding at something sensitive. He can’t just let things lie, though. Not anymore.

Rex squares his shoulders and knocks on the door.

“Come in!” Anakin’s voice is slightly muffled by the door. Rex inhales, exhales, and opens the door.

Anakin rises from his desk as Rex enters, a disassembled mouse droid spread across the surface instead of the flimsiwork Rex  _ knows _ he has. For a second, he contemplates pretending he came here for just that - but no, he can’t just take the easy way out. “What’s up? Anakin asks curiously. “Normally you just comm.” Rex purses his lips. He wishes he could do this over comm, but he owes the General at least this much.

“I wanted to talk with you about something you mentioned during our discussion about Fox.” Anakin frowns. Rex knows his General well enough to pick up on the tension that seeps into the other man’s posture.

“What about it?” Rex takes a deep breath.

“Anakin, I think you should see a mind healer,” he says bluntly. Anakin’s jaw drops. For a moment he just looks completely gobsmacked, but it isn’t long before indignation and anger start to rise.

“What are you talking about?” Anakin scoffs. “I don’t need to see a shrink, Rex, don’t be ridiculous.” A muscle in Rex’s cheek twitches as he forces his face to remain open and calm.

“You mentioned voices-” Rex starts, but Anakin doesn’t even let him finish.

“For Force’s sake- I wasn’t being  _ literal _ !” He rolls his eyes, but his back has gone ramrod straight. Rex tries a different angle.

“Maybe it’s not literal, but it would still probably be good to see one, if only because of the war.” Immediately, he knows he’s misstepped. The tightness around Anakin’s eyes isn’t a good sign, especially with how the rest of his expression shutters off.

“I’m one of the best Generals this army has.”

“Even so, that doesn’t mean that you’re magically exempt from the mental toll war takes.” Force knows that the Jedi would all be better off if it did - Rex has heard more than enough from Cody about General Kenobi’s emotional scars to wipe that notion away entirely. “Talking with someone is good for you.”

“I’m talking to you right now, aren’t I?” Anakin points out, crossing his arms over his chest. Rex purses his lips.

“ _ Really _ talking. Telling me was a good start-” Anakin scoffs loudly.

“Oh, so you could just throw it back in my face?” Rex takes a startled step back at the sheer vehemence in his words.

“I wasn’t- I’m trying to  _ help you _ -”

“It sure doesn’t seem like it!” Anakin snaps, before taking a deep breath and running his hand through his hair. There’s still oil staining his fingers, but he either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. His motions are jerky, like it’s taking all his effort to not lash out at the world. “I’m not some- some crazy person. I don’t need to be fucking  _ medicated. _ ”

“That’s  _ not _ what I’m saying,” Rex insists, feeling frustration start to rise in his chest. It’s not even because Anakin is arguing with him. If the other man had legitimate reasons for not wanting to see a mind healer, Rex would be more than happy to hear him out. But Anakin isn’t  _ listening _ , and Rex has had more than enough of being dismissed like the words he says are an empty formality for a lifetime and more. “It wouldn’t hurt to just visit a mind healer, have a trial appointment or  _ something _ to get a feeling for it.”

“Sure, ‘just one’,” Anakin retorts with biting sarcasm. His fists are clenched at his sides, the metal of his prosthetic creaking from the strain. “Then you’ll ask me to go to another, and then another, and-” he cuts himself off with an inarticulate noise of frustration. He takes a deep breath, slowly uncurls his fingers. “I  _ don’t _ need some stupid head shrinker,” he tries again, sounding calmer than before, but Rex can see the storm still hiding under the surface. “Was that the only thing you wanted to talk about?” Anakin asks abruptly, clearly done with the conversation as he turns back to the mouse droid.

Rex could push. Rex probably  _ should _ push. But Rex is tired, Rex is sick of beating his head against a brick wall, and Rex is  _ done _ . He’ll probably try again later, maybe send a message to Senator Amidala about it (since Anakin actually listens to  _ her _ , a voice whispers bitterly), but for now he’ll retreat and come up with a new plan of attack.

“No, that’s it,” Rex says mechanically, finding his shields a little battered by the emotions Anakin must have been projecting during their conversation. It feels like a bruise. Anakin looks up at the sound of Rex’s distant, impersonal Captain voice, and something like regret flashes across his face. “Thank you for your time, General.”

Rex leaves before Anakin can say anything else.

Tooka sighs and tosses a ball of crumpled up flimsi at the upturned bucket some vod had left in the medbay. It bounces off the edge and joins the numerous other balls littering the table around the helmet. They’ve been struggling to write this report for the past four hours, but the words just don’t want to come.

Technically, they don’t  _ have _ to get it done tonight. It actually doesn’t need to be in the system until tomorrow afternoon, but it’s dark out and Tooka is too restless to sleep so… reports. It’s not the  _ smartest _ plan of action - there’s a headache building up behind their eyes that means they should probably stop - but there’s a burning need to  _ do things _ , to not be idle, to accomplish something.

There’s a knock at the door. Their hand jerks and Tooka mutters a curse under their breath as their pen leaves a stray line of ink across the page. They stand, tossing the pen back onto their desk, and stride over to the door, jabbing the open button with more force than it really needs. “Can I help you?” Tooka demands, and then pauses.

The brother in front of them isn’t one they’re familiar with. The tattoo on his face is too memorable to forget, a striking chevron shape set off-center of the trooper’s face. It’s twisted now, brow pinched as he wrings his hands anxiously.

“You’re… you’re Tooka, right? The Coruscant Guard’s Chief Medical Officer?” They arch a brow at the title, but nod.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Tooka says slowly, eyeing the kid. He looks about ready to vibrate right out of his skin with anxiety, something an awful lot like desperation practically dripping off of him. Tooka’s heart drops.

The kid takes a deep breath, steeling himself. When he looks up, the eyes that meet Tooka’s are filled with determination.

“There’s something I need to tell you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i cant believe this was literally the hardest chapter in the entire story to write. it's 90% anakin's fault, but the other 10% is my cat's, who, halfway through my rewrite of the anakin scene, decided that he absolutely needed attention Right Then and took over my lap for like ten minutes. bless everyone who put up w/ me complaining abt this ch, honestly, & shoutout to the vox discord for helping w/ anakin's... everything
> 
> (also, it's exactly 2224 words so i guess it's dedicated to cody??)


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> some conversations are had

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shoutout to slyside for reading over this for me!! truly a godsend
> 
> warnings: a lot of non-graphic discussion of sexual assault, terrible treatment of clones, a little mind control aftermath stuff
> 
> this is also the chapter where I start screwing around with canon, so bear with me

Once they land, Carrion makes a beeline for the Guard HQ. Normally, he’d wait for Bly and the General, since they want to talk to Commander Fox, but he wants to talk with Tooka and Kix as soon as possible. It just doesn’t feel right to talk about such sensitive subjects over comms - Carrion’s getting that now, with almost a dozen cases scattered amongst his own men. He’d thought Tooka’s paranoia was a little ridiculous, before, but between this and Bly’s suspicions… Well. They’ll have a lot to talk about.

The Guard HQ is about as calm as it ever gets - which is to say, not very. There’s the usual bustle of troopers going too and fro, Carrion even having to dodge a brother who was trying to put his boots on as he hurried down the hall. The normalcy of it all should feel soothing, but if anything, it just puts Carrion more on edge. Vode are laughing, smiling and chatting with each other as they pass, but he can’t help but wonder how many of them are hiding their pain, the emotional wounds that are so much harder to treat than the physical. Thinks of his own men, quiet and withdrawn as they told him what happened with shame in their voices when they’d done nothing wrong. Bile rises in his throat, but Carrion rips his eyes away from the scene and swallows hard.

Tooka. He needs to talk to Tooka. He takes a deep breath and sets off down the hall, trying to ignore the Guard members around him as he weaves through the crowd, keeping his eyes trained on the ground. The scent of the medbay hits him before he sees it, the sharp smell of the antiseptics as familiar to him as his own face. Carrion resists the urge to poke his head into the medbay - he knows he’d see something that would make him want to help, and before he knew it he’d be caught up in it all and  _ hours _ would have passed. So Carrion walks past the medbay doors, no matter how wrong it feels, and knocks on the door of Tooka’s office.

No response. Carrion frowns, but Tooka might not be in right now. It wouldn’t be the first time it had happened, but Tooka tended to stick pretty close to home more often than not. Still, it’s a likely possibility, so Carrion shrugs and types out a quick message to Tooka. He hits send.

Carrion hears Tooka’s ringtone through the door. It’s distinctive, a series of beeps that Carrion knows designates a direct message. His throat feels tight all of a sudden, a bad feeling beginning to bloom in the back of his mind. He knocks again. “Tooka?” he calls out. “It’s Carrion.” Again, no response. Carrion’s stomach churns uneasily.

Tooka doesn’t just  _ ignore _ people. It’s one of the things about being a medic, especially when you’re the CMO - your door is never really  _ closed _ . You have to be available if an emergency happens, or even just if a trooper has a few questions they want to ask. It’s why the room that’s technically Carrion’s office has been mostly converted into another, more private medbay. (It’s also because Carrion is terrible at telling people no, but that’s neither here nor there.)

The door is unlocked when Carrion checks it, and he swallows hard before opening it. His heart sinks. Tooka  _ is _ in their office, but it only takes a glance to see that something is  _ wrong _ . They’re staring blankly down at a datapad whose screen has long since turned off, barely even reacting to Carrion’s entrance. He takes a step closer and takes in more. Tooka is paler than usual, a stark contrast to the bags smudged under their eyes like bruises. Their face is drawn tight with stress, lip bloody from where they’ve clearly been chewing on it - a nervous habit Carrion had thought they had kicked as a cadet. Tooka’s hair is sticking up like they’d fallen asleep at their desk and not bothered to fix it since - a style Carrion is unfortunately familiar with from his own sleepless nights, and something that doesn’t bode well for the circumstances at hand.

“Tooka?” Carrion says again, quieter this time, as he puts a hand on Tooka’s shoulder. The older medic flinches violently as they’re ripped back to reality, shaking their head as they try to regain their bearings. Carrion stays quiet, lets them gather themselves - if it were another trooper, he’d try to help, but he knows Tooka would hate it.

“Carrion,” they say finally, and he looks up. Somehow, they look even worse now that they’re in motion and not eerily listless. “You’re on Coruscant?”

“We landed a little while ago,” he confirms. “A whole week of leave.”

“Right, right.” They run a hand through their hair. “Can you comm Kix? We have… a situation.” Carrion swallows hard but nods.

He can already tell this is going to be bad.

Fox is nursing a headache when he gets the comm. His meeting with the Chancellor had been uneventful, but he always seems to walk away with a pounding headache more often than not. Maybe it’s just because Fox is always so  _ tense _ when they’re alone, but… he doesn’t really want to find out.

~~ ( _ what if its something else what if hes doing something-) _ ~~

Fox shakes his head and tries to refocus on the flimsiwork he’s filling out. Something about… taxes, he thinks. It doesn’t really matter. He just needs to forge the Senator’s signature and send it off to the right department. Fox scribbles out Senator Renking’s approval and almost goes to start on the next document before he remembers the message. Right. He opens it.

**Tooka (CT-3297):** Meeting in Conference Room D in 10.

Fox’s eye twitches. He just  _ knows _ that Tooka deliberately held off on telling him until the last minute so he couldn’t come up with excuses. And  _ that _ means that it’s something Fox is definitely not going to be happy with. Fox sighs, turning off the datapad and rising to his feet. Tooka will come track him down if he doesn’t show up on his own, and Fox would at least like the dignity of showing up on his own two feet.

Fox checks the chrono as he leaves, arching a brow when he sees the time. It’s not long past 0600 - not an unreasonable hour, by any means, but it’s still early by most peoples’ standards. He shrugs it off - it’s not like it matters, since he’s been in his office all night anyways.

The lift down to the levels where the rest of the Guard usually work seems to take even longer than usual. He’s never  _ liked _ the fact that his office is so far away from his vode, but the wait irks him more than it usually does, an anxious sort of impatience curling in the back of his mind. He doesn’t know what Tooka wants him for, but he wants to get it over with.

Fox has to sidestep a shiny when he gets off the lift, absently acknowledging the squeaked out apology as the kid hurries past him. It’s not  _ hard _ to find the room Tooka had mentioned, but it is tedious. It takes eight of Fox’s ten minutes to get there, a nonsensical winding route that’s supposed to make enemy infiltration more difficult but really just makes  _ Fox’s _ life harder.

He opens the door and pauses. Thorn looks up from a datapad at the sound of the door opening and lights up when he sees Fox, giving him a wide smile that eases some of the tension knotted in Fox’s chest. Stone is sitting next to Thorn, slouched down into his chair and looking half-asleep, but his eyes are as sharp as ever. Fox’s stomach drops as his gaze reaches Fives. Fuck. This better not be what he thinks it is, or he’s going to be having  _ words _ with Tooka. Seeing Kix at the ARC’s side only reinforces the idea starting to form in his head.

Then his eyes fall on Rex. Fox’s throat feels a little tight as he looks at his brother. He’d never been close to Rex and that had only grown worse after they were deployed, but now Fox looks at him and remembers Tooka saying ‘ _ he said he couldn’t be objective since the two of you are adoptive batchmates and pulled himself off the mission’ _ . He remembers the little blond kid who always trailed after Kote, who always threw himself into everything he did wholeheartedly and with a determination to rival beskar. Fox had thought what meager bond they’d had had long since shriveled away and died, but no, it was still there and it was strong enough for Rex to declare himself  _ compromised _ . Fox swallows hard and forces himself to look away as he goes and sits down next to Thorn.

Tooka isn’t in the room yet, even though they should know it isn’t professional to be late to their own meetings. It’s also not  _ polite _ , but Tooka has only ever been polite when it suits them. Fox is too disciplined to fidget nervously, but that doesn’t make him any less anxious for what’s yet to come. It just means he’s better at hiding it. Thorn, always the more open of the two of them, is drumming his fingers on the table impatiently as he flicks through yet another requisition form. Stone has closed his eyes entirely, but Fox knows he’s not asleep. Maybe dozing off a little bit, but they have to get their rest when they can. They’re light enough sleepers to make up for it.

Tooka finally appears, everyone snapping to attention as the medic hurries in with several datapads in hand. Fox frowns. He’s seen Tooka in worse states than most, but it’s been a while since they’ve been this… well, stressed isn’t really the right word, because they deal with stress on a near-daily basis, but Fox can’t put another word to the tight expression on Tooka’s face, only enhanced by their uncharacteristically sloppy appearance and clear lack of sleep. Even more unusual is Tooka’s companion - Fox tries to keep note of the various Commanders and CMOs for flimsiwork purposes, and he’s seen the man in passing enough to recognize the 327th’s medic. He just doesn’t know why Carrion is  _ here _ .

Tooka dumps their haul of datapads onto the table with a loud clatter that makes Fox jump. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the other Guard Commanders react the same, although Stone is definitely the best at hiding it. He ignores the contemplative look the ARC trooper sends their way, instead focusing his attention on Tooka.

“Tooka. What was so important that you needed all of us here on such short notice?” Tooka purses their lips, looking away. At their back, Carrion’s brow wrinkles in concern and he touches their shoulder lightly. Fox huffs, not in the mood to wait. His head is still pounding and now that he isn’t up to his nose in work he’s starting to realize he actually hasn’t eaten in hours. “ _ Tooka _ .”

“Last night, I had another trooper come to me to report that they were also sexually assaulted by a Jedi.” Fox’s heart catches in his throat and for a second he can’t breathe. No.  _ No _ . Tooka barrels forward, not giving them a moment to interject. “He gave me a name. General Pong Krell.” Relief washes over Fox like a wave, followed quickly by guilt. He shouldn’t be  _ relieved _ to hear that there’s another Jedi out there assaulting clones, but it means that the Chancellor hasn’t gotten to one of Fox’s brothers.( It means that he hasn’t failed .) “His file is on the datapads,” Tooka continues, gesturing to the pile on the table. Fox just stares at it as the others reach out to grab one. His hands are shaking. He can hide it when they’re in his lap, but… Stone passes a ‘pad over to him before Fox has time to dwell on it further, and Fox takes it with a small dip of his head. He turns the datapad on.

Pong Krell. Fox hadn’t recognized the name at first, but it’s a familiar one. Fox tries to keep an eye on casualty reports, and the jarringly high numbers for the man’s battalion had not escaped him. Page after page of numbers and numbers, barely a name in sight. Fox had figured it was a time-saving measure at first - their files are tied to their CT numbers, after all. Something about that explanation hadn’t sat right with him, though, so during one of Fox’s sleepless nights he’d started looking into some of the men’s files.

What he’d found hadn’t been pretty. Some of the men  _ did _ have names attached to their files, and Fox had discreetly changed them out on the reports, but an alarmingly large portion of the 304th simply… didn’t. The reason why had made Fox’s stomach turn. What he’d originally taken for simple bureaucratic negligence was actually far worse - so many of Krell’s men had died so soon after being deployed that they hadn’t even had the  _ time _ to get a name. They were shinies. And Krell just kept getting more, because despite all the deaths, all the losses, he  _ won _ and that was all anybody cared about.

He’d never thought Krell could stoop this low, though, go past disregard into outright cruelty, and for a heartbeat Fox thinks the eyes on the screen are yellow. His heart feels like it’s caught in his throat, blood rushing in his ears as memories of those same eyes peering out at him from the Chancellor’s face-

He drops the ‘pad. The room is so silent it’s almost echoing, and Fox can  _ feel _ the others staring at him even if he can’t tear his eyes away from the datapad.

“Fox?” Thorn asks quietly, brow pinched with concern as he bumps his ankle against Fox’s under the table. “Is he…?”

“No,” Fox blurts out, shaking his head. “No, it’s not… I just thought I saw something.” Fox doesn’t miss the look Stone and Thorn exchange, but he turns off the datapad and tries not to feel relieved when Krell’s face disappears from the screen. “The 304th has only been on Coruscant a handful of times since the war began.” The ARC trooper frowns, leaning back in his chair.

“The 501st is one of the busiest legions and even we get leave more often than that,” he says skeptically. Begrudgingly, Fox can see why Tooka picked the man to lead the investigation, no matter how much he hates that it exists at all. The ARC -  _ Fives _ \- is sharp, quick-witted and good on his feet, with the kind of easy charisma Fox has always lacked.

“I believe General Krell convinced the nat-borns that the time they spend on Kamino to pick up new troops counts as downtime.” The 501st all make looks of disgust, as does Thorn.

“Kamino?” Fives says incredulously. “Being on Kamino is like the exact  _ opposite _ of a break!” Fox hums noncommittally. He agrees, of course - he hadn’t liked Kamino when he’d lived there, and he certainly doesn’t like it any more  _ now _ .

“Even so, that’s the excuse they’ve decided on,” Fox says. “He’s apparently got quite the iron fist on his battalion.” Rex frowns.

“That could be a problem,” he muses aloud. “Especially if there’s other victims who are too scared to come forward.” Tooka grimaces.

“I’ll make sure to reach out to the 304th about discreetly looking into that,” they say, jotting something down on their ‘pad. Fox frowns. He’d figured that the trooper was one under Krell’s command, but Tooka’s wording is giving him a bad feeling, and Fox hasn’t gotten to where he is by ignoring his instincts.

“So this victim isn’t part of the 304th?” he asks, keeping his voice even. Tooka freezes. The others turn to look at them, confused.

“Tooka?” Rex says slowly, brows pinched. “I thought this came in from one of the other CMOs.” Tooka purses their lips and looks away.

“I never said anything of the sort, you just made assumptions,” they say stiffly, and Fox straightens up. Tooka going stuffy and formal never bodes well.

“Well, what other options are there?” Kix asks, confused. Fox’s stomach drops. No. No. Krell was almost never on Coruscant, it couldn’t be. Tooka exhales heavily, leaning back in their chair.

“Last night, I had a trooper from the 501st come by my office,” they say carefully. Rex flinches like he’s been hit, shock flashing across his features before he manages to bury it. Fox feels horrible for being relieved that it wasn’t one of his men, but he  _ is _ . It’s the brother he doesn’t know than the brother he  _ does _ , but kriff if Fox isn’t taking every little victory he can get.

“What?” Kix croaks out, looking horrified. “One of…” he drops his head into his hands. “Ka’ra, how did I miss this?” Fives rubs his back soothingly even as he leans forward in his seat, eyes sharp.

“Why  _ would _ they go to Tooka, though?” he questions. “No offense or anything,” Tooka waves him off, not even giving one of their usual perfunctory complaints. “But it doesn’t make sense for a 501st trooper to randomly seek out the Guard’s CMO for this kind of thing.” Fox frowns as he considers it. He always thinks of the Guard’s medics first when something happens, but another battalion’s  _ wouldn’t _ . Tooka’s shoulders slump, and Fives’ eyes widen as he realizes something. “Unless- Unless they knew about this investigation.” Fox stiffens, fear lancing up his spine. He’d  _ told _ Tooka-

“The only ones who know what we’re investigating are Alpha squad,” Rex protests. “Jesse would go to Kix, Hardcase wouldn’t be able to hide it and neither would Tup, and Dogma-” Rex trails off as horrified realization begins to dawn on his features. “No. Not Dogma.” Tooka bows their head.

“I’m sorry.” Kix makes a wounded noise and tries to press his head further into his hands. Rex looks shaken down to his very bones, slumping back into his chair. Fox has never seen the man look so defeated, not even when they were cadets and Rex was one mistake away from being decommissioned for his hair.

“I knew something was up with him when we got this assignment,” Fives blurts out, agitatedly running a hand through his hair. “I knew, kriff, he even had that meltdown-”

“Fives,” Rex says shortly, and the ARC’s mouth snaps shut. “You’ve been busy here. If anything, it’s my responsibility. I talked with Dogma before this, and I had no clue that something else was wrong.”

“The only person to blame is Krell,” Carrion cuts in, voice sharp. The others turn to look at him in surprise, the medic’s presence having been almost entirely forgotten in the uproar. He looks sheepish at the sudden attention, but digs in his heels regardless. “You are not at fault for the brothers you could not save.” That hits a little too close to home, and Fox flinches before he can catch himself. The sharp looks he gets from Rex and Thorn show that it was not missed - Tooka is too exhausted and stressed to catch it, thankfully. It’ll be bad enough trying to dodge the other two, and the last thing he wants is for the medic to  _ also _ be on his case.

“I put off doing a physical exam because Dogma implied that the assault happened some time ago,” Tooka cuts in briskly, covering up their own unease with staunch professionalism. “I figured that he would be more comfortable with you, provided that he didn’t have to broach the subject himself.” Kix nods, still looking like he’s come out of a meeting with the Chancellor.

“Yeah… Yeah, I can do that.” He shakes his head, running a hand over the ridiculous shaved patterns. “Kriff.” Kix rises to his feet, Fives quickly following when the medic stumbles. The ARC catches Kix’s elbow and steadies him. Rex drags a hand down his face.

“Tooka, could you send me a report about all this?” he asks tiredly. “I want to talk with Dogma about this myself, but I’d like to compare accounts to make sure that I didn’t miss anything.”

“Of course,” Tooka confirms with a short nod. “I did inform him that I was telling you this morning, so he’s expecting you.” Rex slides his bucket on and dips his head in acknowledgement. Kix and Fives exit, talking softly to one another as they walk. Rex goes to follow, but comes to a halt at Tooka’s chair.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, before quickly leaving the room.

Fox exhales heavily when the door closes behind them. It feels like a weight’s been taken off of his chest right up until he remembers that there’s  _ another _ outsider in the room. Carrion squeaks as everyone’s attention pivots to him, his cheeks flushing.

“Alright, what are you here for?” Stone asks the medic, faint irritation leaking into his voice as he props his chin up on one hand. Carrion visibly steels himself and straightens up, meeting their eyes squarely.

“I should preface this with the question of who, in this room, knows the pregnant trooper’s identity?” Carrion starts out bluntly, and Fox feels like he’s been slapped. It’s something that’s only happened to him a few times - the trainers would smack them around, but if they went for the face it was usually a punch. No, Fox had felt a slap for the first time when stuck on some Senator’s guard detail. Some tidbit of hers had gone missing, and when Fox had tried to calm her down, she’d slapped him. It was a strange sensation - not so much the hit, Fox was used to those, but the sudden shift in perspective. He was looking at her and then he wasn’t, and he was too disoriented to process what had happened until the blood rushing in his ears had faded enough for him to hear her again. This feels eerily like that situation, Fox’s world view just going ever so slightly off-kilter in a single heartbeat. He just stares at Carrion in shock as Thorn clears his throat.

“All of us do,” he says, managing to look remarkably calm.  _ Fox _ certainly doesn’t feel that way, but he has his bucket to hide behind - Thorn is barefaced. Carrion nods like he’d been expecting that, and continues.

“Then I’ll say this. Myself, General Secura, and Commander Bly have reason to believe that Commander Fox is the aforementioned pregnant trooper.” Out of the corner of his eye, Fox sees Stone’s jaw drop, but he barely even registers it in the swell of panic. Tooka has whipped around to glare at their colleague, and even in their bedraggled state it’s enough to make Carrion cringe back.

“Explain,” Tooka demands, fingers twitching like they wished they had a blade to hold. Carrion swallows hard, giving a jerky nod.

“Right. I told my General and Commander about the research I was doing, excluding the Jedi part, and I assume Bly learned something else from his batch that allowed him to put the pieces together. He hasn’t told me the details, but he and General Secura touched on the topic with me when we were discussing plans to check with our battalion about any sexual harassment or assault that they may have faced.” Fox is feeling a little lightheaded, despite still being seated in his chair.  _ Bly _ had figured this out? Bly  _ knew _ ? “They  _ are _ coming by to discuss this with you in person,” Carrion adds, addressing Fox directly. “But I wanted to give you a heads-up and make sure we weren’t foolishly leaping to conclusions.”

“Fox?” Thorn says, worried. “You’ve been really quiet.” Fox feels like he can’t breathe, like ~~the Chancellor’s~~ _someone’s_ hands are around his throat, pressing down- “Fox!” There’s a rush of cold air as his helmet is yanked off, and Fox blinks a few times before he realizes that it’s Thorn, crouched in front of him so that they’re on the same level, holding Fox’s bucket and looking at Fox like he’s some wounded baby bird. “Hey, you still with us buddy?” Fox swats the other’s hand away and averts his eyes.

“I’m fine,” he huffs, although they all probably know that he’s lying. Manda, how far he’s fallen. He used to be able to lie to the trainers’ faces in a blink, and here he is now, not even able to hide properly even with  _ armor _ .

“I’ll go wait in the hall.” He dully registers Carrion speaking, the  _ whoosh _ of the door as it opens and closes. It feels a million miles away, and Fox only comes back to himself when he feels a hand on his jaw. It’s the coarse material that their gloves are made of, but something about the texture feels almost grounding. Thorn - because of course it’s Thorn - turns Fox’s head back to face him.

“It’s going to be okay,” Thorn soothes. “Bly finding out isn’t going to do anything, he’s not going to blow up in your face like Cody did.” If he didn’t still feel so disconnected, Fox might have laughed. Bly? Sweet little Bly, who reads terrible romance holonovels and has always been a touch too soft, getting  _ that _ angry? It’s absurd enough of a thought that Fox starts to settle more back into his body, his breathing falling back into something resembling normal - he hadn’t even realized it had sped up at all.

Fox tries to pull up his usual arguments and comes up short. Bly wouldn’t think he was weak, not when Bly was called that for years and years by their trainers and Fox comforted him. He wouldn’t be stupid enough to charge forward blindly, either - Bly had always been the cautious one, even more so than Fox. He couldn’t be disappeared, either, not as a Marshall Commander. The Chancellor aside, there’s only one thing about it that makes Fox worry-

“What about his Jedi?” Thorn stills, his brows furrowing.

“...General Secura?” he says slowly. Fox nods, anxiety twisting in his guts. He’s talked to her a few times, and  _ heard _ more than enough about her, but idle chitchat is one thing - the secrets they’re unravelling is another. “Vod, I’ve heard nothing but good things about her - from the entire 327th, not just Bly. She’s not going to judge you, or get disgusted with you, or whatever other scenario you’ve cooked up in that mind of yours. Bly loves her, but you’re batchmates - he wouldn’t bring her if he thought she would react negatively.” Fox manages a baleful look at Thorn for that - Bly would, actually, because Bly is a hopeless romantic and is absolutely  _ smitten _ with his General - but… it helps. It helps and Fox is a little annoyed at that, honestly, because it means Thorn is  _ right _ .

~~_ (It also means that his arguments aren’t quite as beskar-clad as he once thought.) _ ~~

“...You really think that?” Fox asks quietly, cheeks flushing as his voice trembles. Thorn doesn’t even seem to notice, though, just smiles and squeezes Fox’s shoulder.

“Yeah vod, I really do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank FUCK this is done. im sorry it took so long but this is like draft number seven (thus breaking my previous record of three) and my brain is mush. i don't know when the next chapter will be done, but hopefully it won't take this long to finish.
> 
> (im not saying modern au carrion is big into edgar allen poe, BUT-)


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> some fallout of the meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: more discussion of rape/non-con re: dogma (during which there are some concerns about it also being underage (it wasn't)), some internalized prejudice about mental health/mental health treatment

After the meeting, Thorn manages to cajole Fox into taking a nap. His vod protests, of course, but not as much as he usually does. He’s tired, even if he refuses to admit it, and emotionally wrung out. It’s easy to bully him into agreeing to letting Thorn take over his desk while Fox moves to the comfier corner chair, and after that it’s only a matter of time.

It only takes a few minutes before Fox is dozing off, and Thorn quietly gets up and grabs the blanket he keeps in here for exactly this kind of thing. Fox stirs slightly when Thorn gently pries the datapad out from his hands - somehow the man manages to have a death grip on the thing, even in sleep - and tucks the blanket in around him. Satisfied, Thorn takes a step back and appraises his work. Fox should be able to get at least an hour of sleep this way.

Thorn dims the room lights and turns on a lamp, looking over a stack of flimsi on Fox’s desk. He probably could have brought up his own work, but Fox has so much more and is so much worse at delegating it out. Thorn can’t help the fond smile that flits across his face, but it quickly fades. He sighs. Fox really is too dutiful for his own good. He’d do damn near anything if he thought he was supposed to, no matter how much it hurt him.

There’s enough flimsiwork for Thorn to browse through for something he actually recognizes - he wants to ease Fox’s workload, not make it  _ worse _ by filling out something incorrectly, after all. Eventually he picks a random datapad and turns it on.  _ Dantooine Water Distribution Bill _ . Thorn grimaces. It’s one he does know how to fill out, though, so he sighs and does as much as he can. It ends up in the stack for Fox to sign off on, because the man has an uncanny ability to forge Senators’ signatures that Thorn very much does  _ not _ . His own handwriting is barely legible, he’s not going to try someone else’s.

Thorn only makes it through four datapads before Fox jerks bolt upright, hands scrabbling at his throat. Thorn rushes to his side, taking Fox’s hands as gently as he can and pulling them away. “Hey, it’s okay Fox, you’re safe. We’re in your office, there’s nobody else here. It’s okay.” The ragged sob that escapes Fox makes Thorn’s heart ache, but he doesn’t dare hug Fox until he’s more awake. All he can do is hold Fox’s hands and murmur soft words to him. Fox is nearly silent as he cries and shudders through whatever horrors were living in his head, holding onto Thorn’s hands for dear life.

When the worst of it has died down, Thorn carefully frees one of his hands and starts running his fingers through Fox’s hair. His brother leans into the touch, still out of it enough to not try and deny himself. Somehow, Thorn ends up awkwardly perching on the arm of the chair - and Thorn has to give whoever made it props because two super soldiers was no small load to handle - Fox pressed up against his side as Thorn continues to pet his hair.

“...Thorn?” Fox croaks out, voice rough. Thorn hums, not stopping his motions. It seems like Fox is a little overdue for a haircut by now - probably slipped his mind in all the chaos.

“I’m here.” Fox exhales shakily, closing his eyes and slumping into Thorn’s side.

“The stuff with Krell… it really happened?” Thorn grimaces, glad that Fox can’t see his face at the moment. 

“Unfortunately.” The meeting had left Thorn with more questions than answers, but he hasn’t pressed Fox about it just yet. Thorn turns the thought over in his head, considers his options. Fox is emotionally drained right now, and Thorn doesn’t want to push him too hard, but Bly is going to be visiting soon so they can’t just push it off. He sighs. “Fox… during the meeting, what did you see?” Fox stiffens, muscles as tense as durasteel. Thorn keeps playing with his hair, tries to soothe him as best he can without words.

“...It was nothing,” Fox murmurs, which is a Fox answer if he’s ever heard one - that is, a straight-up lie because Fox has  _ issues _ admitting any kind of vulnerability. Thorn snorts, although he doesn’t really feel amused, and some of the tension in Fox eases. “I just… for a second I could have sworn his eyes flashed yellow.” The hairs on the back of Thorn’s neck stand up. It sounds… vaguely familiar, like it’s something he should know. He can’t put his finger on it, though, and that bothers him more than he’d like to admit. He’s gotten used to the uncertainty of the blackouts, those gaping holes in his memory, but that doesn’t mean he  _ likes _ it.

“Want to talk about what you were dreaming?” Thorn asks instead, setting the issue aside for the moment. It’s Fox’s turn to snort. A wry smile spreads across Fox’s face. They both know the answer is no. Normally Thorn would press a bit more, because sometimes Fox just needs a little nudge to get going, but he doesn’t this time. “Do you know if you’ll be able to go back to sleep?”

“Probably not,” Fox mumbles, half into Thorn’s greys. “My head hurts.” Thorn swears in the privacy of his head, where Fox can’t judge him on his choice of expletives. Of  _ course _ Fox wouldn’t think to mention a headache before now, not even when Fox’s ‘headaches’ tended to border on migraines. There’s no point in trying to get him to go to the medbay, though - it’ll be ineffective at best and counterproductive at worst. Thorn sighs, checking his comm. Thire’s up and - according to the schedule, at least - doesn’t have a shift for another few hours. He’d probably woken up early to get a head start on flimsiwork. Thorn feels a little bad for disturbing him, but it shouldn’t take too much time out of the younger trooper’s day.

“I’ll ask Thire to bring up some stuff. Do you feel like eating?” Fox grunts, burying his face into Thorn’s stomach.

“Not really, but I’m hungry.” Thorn hates that that statement makes complete sense to him. He’s really gotten too used to Fox’s less-than-stellar eating habits. He types out the message to Thire and mutes his comm before sending it. No need to disturb Fox with more sounds than absolutely necessary.

Thorn’s back has started to realize that it’s been contorted in a position it very much does not like, and he makes a face as it makes its complaints known. Turns out that the arms of chairs are not made for sitting on. Who knew? “Hey, mind if I move to the floor?” He feels Fox start to tense up and quickly cuts off the train of thought he knows his vod is going down. “I’m not going anywhere, my back’s just killing me like this.”

“That’s because you’re old,” Fox mumbles, but he relaxes. It’s as good of an agreement as Thorn is going to get at the moment, so he carefully extracts himself and plops down on the floor right in front of the chair. There’s a startled snort, and Thorn hides a grin.

“I’m not that much older than you,” Thorn replies. It’s an old argument, well-trodden ground. They stay like that for a while, bickering aimlessly, and slowly the tension seeps out of Fox’s form. Fox’s hands find their way to Thorn’s hair, playing with the longer strands in a way that isn’t possible with his own haircut. It’s a little tricky to tell, without looking, but Thorn thinks Fox is doing different kinds of braids, periodically running his fingers through Thorn’s hair to undo them. It’s nice, and Thorn manages to snag a nearby datapad off of the ground - Thorn will never  _ not _ be displeased that Fox has enough work that it spills off of his desk and all over the room, but at least he doesn’t have to get up to get some work done.

He’s not sure how much time passes before there’s a knock on the door. Fox’s hands still, but Thorn doesn’t bother to look up from the ‘pad. “Come in,” he calls out, and the door opens a moment later. There’s a pause.

“...Sirs?” Thire says hesitantly, sounding incredibly awkward. Thorn hides a grin. Thire might be well on his way to becoming the next Head of the Guard, but he’s still the youngest CC they have. He still thinks that the rest of them are actually proper and respectable, which is a laugh.

“C’mere.” Thorn waves him over, the younger vod finally coming into his field of vision. Slowly, Fox starts moving again, the motions more hesitant than before. Thire crouches down to deposit his delivery on the ground next to Thorn, but his eyes keep drifting over to Fox. He looks baffled, but he’s at least polite enough to not voice it.

“Do you need anything else, sir?” Thire asks, straightening back up. “I can go ask Tooka for some pain meds if you’d like.” Fox flinches, grip on Thorn’s hair tightening. Thorn winces at the sharp pain.

“No, we’ll be fine. Thank you, Thire.”

“Of course,” Thire replies absently, still looking at the two of them with furrowed brows. The younger vod shakes his head, though, and quickly takes his leave. As the door slides shut behind him, Thorn sighs and leans back against Fox’s legs. He already feels tired, and it’s not even 0800 yet.

Today is going to be a  _ long _ day. 

He can’t even remember the walk back to the barracks. Rex’s head is filled with white noise, a mind-numbing static even as he hollowly carries out the motions. All he can think about is Dogma - Dogma, who has always cared so much about the rules, who has always been a little uptight but still cares so deeply, who has always been well-meaning despite his awkwardness. Dogma, who was assaulted.

Rex had had a hard enough time wrapping his head around the situation with Fox, but  _ Force _ this is somehow even worse. Maybe it’s because he has a name and a face to put the atrocities to, maybe it’s because Dogma is still  _ nine _ , but it all feels more  _ real _ now. It wasn’t- It wasn’t that he hadn’t  _ believed _ that what Fox had said was true, but it must not have sunk in fully, because now he’s really starting to  _ get it _ .

Rex normally isn’t much of a drinker, but at the moment he’d love nothing more than to go to 79’s and get plastered. He won’t, though - he needs to be here for Dogma, and he does actually have the self-awareness to know that drinking his problems away won’t actually help. Plus, 79’s is where most vode go to get laid, dancing and flirting with the other patrons, and Rex… Rex can’t handle that right now.

He glances over at his companions as the door to the bunkroom comes into sight. Kix is steadier than he was earlier, Fives’ hand on his back more for emotional support than anything else. He’s clearly settled into medic mode - the horror and despair from earlier are nowhere in sight, replaced with staunch professionalism. Fives is much the same - face impassive, letting nothing through, but Rex was an ARC too. He can see the tension around Fives’ eyes, the way his hands tremble ever-so-slightly.

Wordlessly, Rex puts his hand on the scanner and the door slides open with a  _ whoosh _ . Dogma’s head jerks up at the sound, looking up at them from where he’s perched on the edge of his bunk. Besides him, the room is all but abandoned - everyone else is either at first meal or on shift. It’s the first good news Rex has had all day. 

“Kih’vod’ika…” Rex says softly, heart aching. Dogma looks so young like this, the shadows of the room highlighting the roundness still left on his cheeks and the gangliness he hasn’t quite outgrown. Dogma hunches in on himself, and Rex suddenly understands how Cody must have felt as a child, with all that passion and anger burning him up from the inside out. He  _ hates _ , hates Krell for even thinking of touching his little brother, hates the GAR for just  _ allowing _ this, hates Anakin for not kriffing  _ listening _ . It feels like an ocean threatening to drown him, and Rex just barely notices the sharp look he’s getting from Fives before he closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and swallows his anger. It won’t help him, not here, not now.

Rex sits down on the bunk across from Dogma. Kix joins him, but Fives stands at the foot of the bed, leaning against it with faux casualness, keeping one eye on the door.

“Tooka told you?” Dogma says, barely a whisper. “About…?” He sounds like he could shatter into pieces if they breathed on him too hard, and Rex just wants to wrap the kid up in a hug and never let him go. He doesn’t, though, gives Dogma his space, and nods.

“They did.” Dogma tugs on the hem of his blacks anxiously. “They only told us the basics, though, kih’vod.”

“Right. Right.” He straightens up, almost going to cross his arms over his chest before he catches himself and passes it off as tugging at his sleeve. Out of the corner of his eye, Rex can see Fives noting the same behavior with a small frown, but says nothing. “What do- What do you need to know?”

“When did the… assault happen?” Dogma flinches at the word, but nods, eyes trained on the ground.

“It was… back on Kamino,” Dogma starts, voice cracking. Rex’s heart catches in his throat. No. He couldn’t mean-

“Before you were deployed?” Kix leans forward, an undertone of urgency in his voice. Dogma startles, looking at Kix in surprise.

“Yes?” Dogma says hesitantly. “A few weeks before.” Rex frantically runs the numbers in his head. Dogma would have been nine, but just barely. That doesn’t- it doesn’t make it  _ better _ , but kriff, at least it’s not  _ worse _ . “Our batch had just passed the graduation tests.”

“Alright,” Rex says, because Kix looks like words are beyond him at the moment. Rex can’t really blame him. Force, they’d known it was going to be bad, but  _ Kamino _ ? “Was it just one incident, or multiple?” The words feel foreign and awkward in his mouth. It feels wrong to be so clinical, but Rex needs that little bit of distance to stay on an even keel. Dogma seems to be clinging to it even moreso - he’s always defaulted to rules and order when he feels unsure.

“Just one,” Dogma says quietly, fingers twisting in the fabric of his blacks. Rex nods slowly.

“Take as much time as you need, but could you describe the events that led up to the incident?” Fives taps his foot against Dogma’s in a silent reassurance, prompting a startled look in the ARC’s direction before Dogma refocuses his attention on Rex.

In slow, halting words, Dogma lays out a rough picture for them. He’d been doing some sim - he can’t remember what it was, and nearly works himself up into a meltdown about it until Fives pulls him into a crushing hug. Rex had been worried about crowding the younger trooper - Dogma has never been particularly comfortable with touch the way most vode are (and now Rex can’t help but wonder if it was always like that, or if Krell’s cruelties were to blame) - but it seems to help some, being pressed up against the hard plastoid of Fives’ armor. When he starts speaking again, he sounds a bit steadier than before, even as his voice still shakes.

Dogma had been in the sims, and then he’d run into Krell in the hall. The Jedi had been watching the sim, apparently, and ordered Dogma to accompany him for the rest of the day. “It was intimidating, but it didn’t seem all that different from working as a training assistant,” Dogma explains, running his fingers over Fives’ scarred vambrace. The motions seem to ground him, for which Rex is quietly thankful for. Dogma deserves every bit of peace he can get, even if it’s stolen in moments like this. “That’s when things get… fuzzy.”

“Fuzzy?” Kix repeats, speaking up for the first time in quite a while. “How so?” Dogma shrugs helplessly. “Were there complete chunks of time missing, or was it more blurred?” It feels like a bucket of ice cold water has been dumped over Rex’s head, Kix’s words from before ringing in his ears.  _ Every single member of the Guard has been losing time. _

“Blurred,” Dogma says quickly. “Why? Is that important?” he asks, straightening up, anxiety clear on his face. His grip on Fives’ arm tightens, and Rex can see the ARC trooper wince.

“Not right now,” Kix soothes, bumping his leg against Dogma’s own. After a moment, Dogma nods hesitantly. Rex exhales heavily, trying to re-center himself.

“Do you know why Krell was on Kamino?” he asks, when it’s clear that Dogma is at a loss for what to say next. Relief flashes over Dogma’s face and he relaxes, color finally returning to his fingers from where he’d been clutching at Fives for dear life.

“General Krell came by fairly often to pick up troops,” Dogma explains. Hearing the title come out of Dogma’s mouth makes Rex’s stomach sour, but he’s careful not to let it show on his face. “They’d stay on Kamino for about a week so that the officers could drill the new troops on the basics.” Rex frowns, the statement odd enough to distract him from the turmoil in his head.

“Why stay on Kamino for that?” he asks, puzzled. Fox had said something about Krell passing off time on Kamino as leave, but Rex has trained enough shinies to know that that isn’t standard procedure in the slightest. Dogma shrugs awkwardly, thumb tracing the edge of a particularly deep scratch at the edge of Fives’ vambrace.

“Tup heard that it was because there were so many of them, but I don’t know for sure.” Rex nods, not pressing on the topic further. Dogma doesn’t have any definite knowledge, and if they start to delve into speculation Rex has a bad feeling that it would end up spiraling again. The last thing he wants to do is work Dogma up even more. He’ll talk with Tup later, instead, get an idea of what the rumor mill is spitting out, then check with the other Commanders to see what the  _ official _ reason is. Rex has very little doubt that the two will be anything  _ but _ one and the same, and depending on the degree of that disparity… well, he’ll figure it out when he gets there.

Rex asks a few more questions, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember what they were - something easy, he thinks, something Dogma could answer without uncertainty. It’s all white noise, as he keeps turning the conversation over in his head, and after a bit Rex hands the reins over to Kix and excuses himself. Fives trails behind him as they leave the room, and as soon as the door closes behind them, Rex’s shoulders slump. Fuck.  _ Fuck _ . He hadn’t wanted to really think about it when Dogma was there to see his reaction, but Force take him.

First Fox, now Dogma? Were the people around him destined to be hurt without him ever being the wiser? Rex scrubs a hand down his face, feeling hollow and worn-out. He’s only twelve, but he feels so much older than that in this moment, the conversation weighing heavily on his mind. He knows he shouldn’t blame himself for it, but it’s hard not to see his brothers and not think that he failed them.

He can’t believe it. Fives knows his hands are shaking, but  _ kriff _ . He had  _ known _ something was wrong with Dogma, but he had gotten caught up in the investigation and hadn’t made the time to properly check in with the other trooper. How could he have been so  _ careless _ ?

The worst part of it is, it has nothing to do with Fox’s case. Everything Dogma had told them, every piece of information he’d offered freely - none of it was going to bring them any closer to figuring out who Fox’s abuser is. Maybe it’s terrible for him to think that, but the only glimmer of a silver lining that could have come from Dogma’s testimony would have been if it had shed some light on the investigation, but instead it’s only opened up a whole new can of worms. The only thing in common is that both of the rapists - and Force if that thought doesn’t make him sick, because Dogma was  _ raped _ \- were Jedi.

It also means that there’s  _ two _ Jedi in the order who have been sexually assaulting clones, and Fives can’t help but dread that there might be  _ more _ . It feels like blasphemy, to think that, but Fives thinks of Fox, thinks of Dogma, and can’t quite bring himself to be guilty about it.

Fives exhales heavily, dragging a hand down his face as he sags against the wall. It feels like the worst kind of torture, just standing in the hall when he knows his little brother is hurting on the other side of it, his skin crawling with each second that ticks by. Kix is with Dogma right now, though, covering the medical side of things. Fives should probably be like Rex and find some work to do to distract himself, but he just… can’t. There’s too much going on in his head and it’s loud enough that he won’t be able to focus on anything else. He drops his head into his hands and takes a deep breath. Inhales. Exhales.

Fox’s reaction bothers him. The Commander had had his bucket on, and even for Fives he was a bit tricky to read, but dropping a datapad wasn’t subtle. That alone was odd enough, honestly. Fives had given the man a pretty wide berth since the start of the investigation - spar notwithstanding - but if there’s one thing he’s learned about Commander Fox it’s that he’s a man of subtlety. For whatever he’d seen to startle him that much… Well, it can’t be good.  _ Yet another thing to add to the list _ , Fives thinks to himself tiredly. There’s so much  _ wrong _ about the Guard that he hasn’t even had a chance to process it, and it feels like every step he takes he trips over yet another red flag.

Fives has become very acutely aware that the polished veneer that the Guard presents to the rest of the GAR is just that - a veneer. The only reason it’s lasted this long is that nobody has bothered to try and look past it. One push and the whole thing had come tumbling down like a house of cards. His instructors have always said he was sharp, but he just feels like a blind fool. All this pain and suffering, right under his nose, and he hadn’t even noticed.

He knows he can’t wallow in this forever, but just for a moment, he lets himself  _ feel _ . The hurt, the self-recrimination, the sorrow. Fives just takes in the breadth of all of it and he forces himself to take another breath, even as his eyes burn with unshed tears and the weight of his failures seems to push down on his chest. He breathes, he stands, and he moves forward.

“Ani, is something bothering you?” Padme asks with a frown, brushing her fingers against the back of his hand. She’d noticed as soon as he’d come in that his mood wasn’t the best, but that wasn’t  _ too _ unusual. Usually, spending time together was enough to get him out of his funk, but it’s been a few hours and nothing’s changed.

“...I got in an argument with Rex,” Anakin admits, without his usual deflections or protests. Immediately, he has her full attention. Anakin has always had a hard time opening up about his vulnerabilities, and even with her it usually takes some coaxing before she can get him to spill.

“What happened?” she asks, frown deepening. Padme can’t help but think about her conversation with Commander Fox not too long ago. She’s always liked the man well enough - he clearly cared about his job and his men, and has been nothing but staunchly professional around her no matter the circumstances. Seeing him on the roof had been a bit eye-opening, though. Padme hadn’t realized just how many layers of armor the man was hiding behind until it had been stripped away, and she only wishes she’d seen it sooner.

Anakin’s behavior isn’t quite like that - he’s more sullen than anything, caught up in his own head, and for all that it’s clearly bothering him, he doesn’t seem  _ upset. _ Padme lets him turn his words over in his head and waits for him to speak.

“I was- trying to talk with Rex a few days back,” he starts haltingly. “One of his batchmates - oh, that’s-”

“I know what it is,” she interrupts gently, before Anakin can start off on a tangent. If that happens, he’ll just keep going on and avoid the real topic. Anakin blinks at her a few times, but shakes his head.

“Right, yeah. There’s this - situation with one of his batchmates. He got hurt recently, and Rex has been all broody since he found out. We talked some, about it. He doesn’t get along with his brother very well, and he’s got a lot of complicated stuff going on in his head about it.” Again, Padme’s mind goes to Commander Fox, and she frowns. It seems like there’s a lot of complicated family relationships going around.

“So you talked with him about it?” She runs her fingers through Anakin’s hair.

“Yeah.” He sighs and leans into her. “I let him know Ahsoka and I were always there to listen and all that, even told him a bit about my issues with Obi-Wan.” Anakin’s handsome face twists into a grimace.

“Alright…” Padme says slowly. She would love to press about the details a bit more, but that can come later. She’ll get the whole story first before she starts digging into the specifics. “So then what?” Anakin scowls at the window. It’s a fierce expression, one that always reminds her that Anakin has always been a force of nature trapped within a human’s skin. She shivers despite herself.

“Then Rex tried to use it against me to get me to go to a kriffing head-shrinker!” He spits, face flushing with anger. It takes Padme a moment to translate the slang - it’s an Outer Rim colloquialism for sure - and her eyebrows shoot up.

“A therapist?” she says, taken aback.  _ That’s _ what has Anakin in such a mood? Anakin nods, not seeming to notice her reaction.

“I just- I can’t believe he’d do that. I told him about Obi-Wan and then he just- threw it back in my face like that!” He runs a hand through his hair agitatedly and Padme frowns, pulling back a bit.

“You’re… upset that he suggested you go to therapy?” 

“No! I mean, yes, but-” Anakin makes a frustrated noise, throwing his hands up in the air.

“Anakin,” she interrupts, voice firm, before he can start to work himself up again. He looks up at her, something wild around his eyes. Gently, carefully, she reaches out and takes his hands in hers. The metal one is cool against her skin and she rubs her thumb over one of the joints. It’s a marvelous work of craftsmanship, one Anakin regularly tweaks and updates, and she never ceases to be in awe of her husband’s skill. Skill or not, though, he still has his moments of foolishness. “Rex’s suggestion is perfectly reasonable, and one you should take into consideration.” Anakin’s jaw drops.

“You’re on  _ his _ side?!” he exclaims. Padme sighs.

“This war has taken a toll on all of us,” she says tiredly. “And you’ve been exposed to it more than most.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m broken!” Anakin protests, anger rising.

“I didn’t say you were,” Padme replies, puzzled. Anakin jumped to conclusions sometimes, but it usually wasn’t  _ that _ far of a leap. Her eyes widen as realization hits. “Anakin, what do you think mind healers are for?” Anakin pauses, caught off guard.

“...They try to fix crazy and broken people with meds and kriff,” he says after a moment, Outer Rim accent a bit thicker than usual. Padme’s heart drops. It’s not hard to figure out where he must have learned that.

“Oh,  _ Ani _ , that’s what you thought we were trying to do?” she murmurs, heart aching. No  _ wonder _ he had been so resistant and upset. She’s never thought about what psychiatric care must be like on Tatooine, and she’s kicking herself for that. Not every planet was like Naboo, with extensive and robust healthcare programs, and Padme can’t believe she didn’t think about that sooner. Everything makes so much more  _ sense _ now. “Therapists are there to talk to you, to help you. They can’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do, but they’re an impartial listener for your troubles and can teach you ways to cope with everything you’ve been dealing with.” Anakin still doesn’t look convinced, and she sighs, playing the personal card. “I still see one myself, ever since the Battle of Naboo.” His jaw drops.

“What? But you aren’t- You’re  _ normal _ -” And oh, how that makes her heart hurt, to realize that he thinks people who need the support of therapists  _ aren’t _ normal.

“My home planet was invaded when I was fourteen,” she interrupts him gently. “Many of our people sought out mind healers in the aftermath, and I was no exception. Those kinds of experiences leave deeper scars than you’d think - it’s just another kind of injury, an invisible one.” Anakin looks like his world has shifted on its axis as understanding finally dawns on his face.

Of course, that’s when his comm goes off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i actually kinda hate this ch tbh but i decided i needed to either post it or give in to the urge to scrap it and start over. it still doesn't flow well but it's somewhat more coherent than it was before.
> 
> on a more positive note, (once again) this ch is now the longest chapter at 5k words. i like how the thorn and fox section turned out, and if things go as planned the next ch will be a lot smoother!


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> some discoveries are made

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: allusions to everything thus far, mention/discussion of rape/non-con via mind tricks, Force choking

Rex drums his fingers on the table anxiously as he waits for Anakin to arrive. He doesn’t particularly  _ want _ to talk with his General right now, but the situation takes precedence over Rex’s feelings. Rex would never let his emotions get in the way of something this important, but that doesn’t mean he’s  _ happy _ about it.

Rex checks the chrono. It’s not that far from the barracks to Senator Amidala’s apartment, so Anakin should be here any second. Unless something delayed him, which is… an unfortunately likely possibility. Anakin’s luck is just like that sometimes. Rex is just about ready to start skimming the HoloNews for reports of explosions or fights when the door finally slides open. Rex straightens up as Anakin hurries in, only looking mildly ruffled. So he probably hadn’t gotten into trouble, then. That was a relief. Rex isn’t really sure if he could handle another disaster right now, not after…

“Rex,” Anakin says, crossing his arms over his chest. “What was so important that you couldn’t discuss it over comms?” Something dark flashes through Rex’s head, anger flaring. There’s only been one issue that they have a comms blackout for right now and Anakin had  _ forgotten  _ about it, when Rex hasn’t been able to get it out of his mind since they first found out. Rex stifles the feeling. Anakin had no way of knowing if something new had cropped up, or… actually, Rex isn’t sure if Anakin even  _ knows _ most of the details about the investigation. Rex has been treating this like a clone matter, and hadn’t debriefed Anakin about the things they’d uncovered. He hadn’t been  _ hiding _ it, but he hadn’t gone out of his way to keep Anakin in the loop either. Kriff. “Rex?” Anakin repeats, looking concerned. “Did something happen?”

“...You could say that,” Rex mutters, dragging a hand down his face. “The investigation’s uncovered another case.” Anakin’s eyes widen and he straightens up, fully serious.

“Go on.” Rex takes a deep breath and steels himself. It’s best to cut right to the chase with his General.

“Sir, it was Dogma.”

“What?” Anakin says, looking shocked. “But…” Rex barrels onward before he begins losing steam.

“He gave us a name. General Pong Krell. The two cases seem to be completely separate, as far as we can tell. I’ve written up a report about what Dogma’s said, as has Kix.” Rex hesitates. “Sir, I think we need to talk about bringing the Jedi Council into this.” Anakin’s expression darkens, but he doesn’t immediately shoot Rex down. Rex doesn’t really know what Anakin’s issue with the Council is - he seems to get along with them individually well enough, but as a whole there’s a distaste there that Rex has never fully figured out the reason for.

“What about the Guard’s CMO? Didn’t they want to keep this off the Council’s radar?” Rex winces.

“They did, but we don’t have the kind of authority we’d need to bring in Krell.” Anakin purses his lips and drums his fingers on the table.

“Obi-Wan is a member of the Council,” he says slowly. “He can’t make decisions for the group, but he  _ does _ have some authority of his own.” Rex sighs, dragging a hand down his face.

“I’ll comm Cody to set up a meeting tomorrow,” he says, feeling every minute of his twelve years of life. Anakin frowns.

“Why tomorrow?” he asks. “We need to put this sleemo away as fast as possible.”

“Tooka pulled an all-nighter and is out for the count right now,” Rex says carefully, trying not to get frustrated. He’s so kriffing  _ tired _ , the last thing he wants to do is deal with  _ more _ of this shit. Some of that must leak out into his expression - or into the Force - because Anakin’s features soften.

“Alright. Send me both of those reports and set up the meeting with the Guard and Obi-Wan.” Rex nods sharply, pulling out his datapad.

“Yes, sir.” Anakin turns to leave but hesitates. Rex glances up at him. “Sir?”

“...I talked with Padme,” Anakin says after a moment, and Rex frowns, not sure where this is going. He lowers his ‘pad. “She said you were right.” Rex blinks.

“Pardon?” he says faintly. Was… Anakin actually admitting that he was wrong? Anakin “Denial is my friend” Skywalker? Maybe this  _ was _ just one long, hellish dream after all. Anakin grimaces, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Apparently Mind Healers are…  _ different _ in the Outer Rim,” he says haltingly. Rex’s eyes widen as the pieces click into place. Oh.  _ Oh _ . Well  _ that _ put some things into perspective. Force bless Senator Amidala for powering through Anakin’s bantha-headedness long enough to actually find the root of the problem.

“So?” Rex prompts, because he might understand now but that doesn’t mean he’s going to let Anakin off easily. Anakin winces.

“I… shouldn’t have blown up at you when you were trying to help,” he says awkwardly. Rex just nods.

“You shouldn’t have,” he agrees, because it’s true. “Are you considering it now, then?” Anakin shrugs, shoulders tight. Unsurprising; when you've believed something for so long it takes more than a few words to truly let go of it, but it's a start.

“Maybe.” That’s probably as good as he’s going to get, so Rex turns back to his datapad, feeling a little lighter. A moment passes before the door  _ whooshes _ open and Anakin is gone.

Fives finds himself wandering through the Guard’s headquarters. He needs to move, to do  _ something _ , but he doesn’t even know where to start right now. There’s just so  _ much _ going on, so many injustices that are being revealed, and Fives feels like he’s barely even touched the surface of it all. Fives is so caught up in his head that he doesn’t even notice the other person until he walks right into them.

With the clatter of plastoid on plastoid, the vod goes falling to the ground. Fives swears, crouching down to help pull them back upright. “Shit, sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“Fives?” Fives just blinks. He’s usually pretty good at telling vode apart - as most of them are - but the Guard’s uniform armor makes it a lot trickier, especially when Fives knows he isn’t at his best. “Did something happen?” The vod straightens up, and Fives realizes that they’re almost an inch shorter than him. His stomach drops and he feels a fresh wave of exhaustion wash over him.

“Hi, kid,” he says tiredly. Blast pulls his helmet off, looking up at Fives with a cocked head. Fives looks away, stomach turning. Looking at the shiny just makes him think of Dogma, Dogma fresh off Kamino, Dogma who had been- Fives cuts that train of thought off harshly. Blast is still looking at him expectantly and the kid doesn’t need to deal with Fives’ issues. “You on duty right now?”

“Nope! I had to go run some errands in the Senate building, but my shift doesn’t start ‘til after midmeal.” Blast bounces on the heels of his feet, a wide grin on his face. Fives smiles back weakly. “I didn’t know you were going to be here today!”

“Some stuff… came up.” Fives sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Say, did you ever meet General Krell back on Kamino?” Blast comes to an abrupt stop and Fives almost bowls him over. “Vod’ika?” he asks, alarm rapidly rising in the back of his head.

“Why do you want to know?” Blast asks anxiously, and Fives’ stomach turns.

“...He’s being investigated by the Jedi Council right now,” he says finally, which is true enough. Once the Council finds out, he has a feeling that every one of Krell’s actions are going to be gone over with a magnifying glass. Blast’s shoulders sag as relief washes across his face.

“I never met him,” Blast informs him, fiddling with his utility belt absently. His brows are furrowed, a troubled look on his face. “The 304th always made me leave when General Krell came over to them.” Oh thank  _ kriff _ . Relief hits Fives like a star destroyer.

“Did you hang out with the 304th a lot, then?” Fives asks, trying to pull his mind away from what-could-have-been’s. Blast nods, still looking subdued.

“Yeah, they were around pretty often. The officers would help us out sometimes, when they weren’t busy or in the medbay.” Fives hums, putting a hand on the kid’s shoulder. He steers them in the direction of where he thinks the Guard’s rec room is.

“So, did anything interesting happen while you were in the Senate?” he asks, changing topics entirely. The kid brightens up instantly.

“Yeah! General Skywalker hurried out of Senator Amidala’s rooms and grabbed one of her scarves by accident. It was pink and glittery but he didn’t realize until he was almost all the way down the hall. He had to rush back and knock on her door a whole bunch until she let him back in.” Fives snorts. How his general thinks he’s fooling anyone, Fives will never know. The man has all the subtlety of a durasteel wall to the face.

“At least Senator Amidala got her scarf back,” he says, amused. He has a feeling he knows what Anakin was in such a hurry for, but for a minute Fives just wants to enjoy something uncomplicated and simple. “If General Skywalker had walked off with it, there’s a pretty good chance it would end up destroyed.” Blast - well,  _ giggles _ , really - and Fives grins, something in his chest loosening. Force, the kid is  _ so young _ , and just the thought of Krell being around him, corroding that brightness, that innocence - it makes Fives feel sick. Fives has never met the 304th, but for a moment he’s desperately grateful for what they’ve done to keep this innocence intact.

Fives listens to Blast ramble about the latest Senate gossip and his squad’s antics, nodding at appropriate moments. He has so much energy and enthusiasm that it warms Fives’ heart even as it aches with the memories of his own squad. Hevy would have loved the kid. Fives swallows hard around the lump in his throat and tries to focus more on what Blast is saying.

“-and Lock never lets us go out on our own,” Blast complains, gesturing empathetically. “He always catches people before they go out, no matter what you do!  _ I _ think he has some special sense for it, but Hash just thinks he keeps an eye on the exits.” Fives arches a brow, bemused.

“You try to get past him often?” he asks dryly. Blast flushes guiltily.

“N-no! I just, y’know, wanted some fresh air.”

“On  _ Coruscant _ ?” The air might not have been toxic, unlike a few unfortunate planets Fives had been to, but it sure as hell wasn’t  _ fresh _ . The kid scratches the back of his neck and gives Fives a sheepish smile. Fives snorts. “Nice try kid, but the tooka eyes won’t work on me.” He ruffles Blast’s hair, making the younger vod squawk and try and swat his hand away.

“Fives!” Blast whines, still trying to shove Fives’ hand away. Fives chuckles and lets him, watching with amusement as Blast fusses and tries to fix his hair. Considering that it hadn’t been particularly neat in the first place, he’s not making much progress, but Fives doesn’t try and dissuade him.

He feels lighter, as if for a moment the only problems in the universe were a bad case of bedhead and some light teasing. He tries to absorb as much of it as he can, a little snapshot of an easy happiness that he can barely imagine on the front lines. He still hurts, but just for a moment, it feels like things might be okay.

Carrion is waiting for them outside of the Guard’s headquarters. Bly pauses for a second, startled. Carrion had left hours ahead of Bly and Aayla, and Bly had figured that the CMOs would be spending the day together, doing whatever medics did when they gathered. Carrion straightens up when he sees them, relief washing over his face. He hurries over to join them.

“Commander, General Secura,” he greets with a nod of his head.

“Carrion.” Bly frowns, glancing back over at the HQ. “You waiting for someone?” Carrion sobers.

“You, sir.” Bly blinks.

“Me?” he says, taken aback. “If you needed something you could have commed me, you know that.”

“Not about this, sir.” Bly’s stomach drops. There’s only one topic they wouldn’t dare to mention over comms, and it’s the reason Bly is here in the first place.

“Is Fox alright?” he asks urgently, already running through possible scenarios in his head. He feels Aayla’s steadying hand on his back and tries to focus on that, not letting his mind run away with worst-case scenarios.

“He was fine when I saw him last, sir,” Carrion says, a pinch between his brows that’s not quite fading. “I just wanted to let you know that I gave Commander Fox a heads up about your visit and the reason for it.” Bly winces. He can’t believe he hadn’t thought of that. Showing up and immediately asking prying questions would not go over well, especially if Cody really had lost his temper and confronted Fox like Bly suspected he had.

“Thank you,” he says sincerely, clapping Carrion on the shoulder and squeezing lightly. The medic nods, glancing back over his shoulder distractedly.

“Of course. Mind if I walk with you? I was going to head back to the Medbay.”

“Of course not,” Aayla says with a gentle smile. “Have you had a chance to see Tooka yet today?” Carrion’s brow scrunches up as he falls in with them.

“I saw them, but they… weren’t in the best state,” he says awkwardly, tugging on the cuff of one of his sleeves. “They’re sleeping now. Pulled an all-nighter and all that.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Aayla says with a frown. It always awes Bly just how much she means that, how much she genuinely cares about  _ vode _ she’s never even met before. “Are you keeping an eye on the Medbay for them, then?”

“Sorta?” Carrion says with a half-shrug. They reach the lifts and Bly hits the button to open the doors. “I’ll be in Tooka’s office anyways, so I might as well.”

“This is why it takes forever for you to get your flimsiwork done,” Bly informs him dryly, feeling a frisson of amusement despite everything. Carrion flushes dully.

“I’m not going to turn people away if they need help!” he protests. Bly arches a brow. Carrion’s blush deepens and he looks away. Bly huffs out a laugh, seeing a smile curl at the corner of Aayla’s lips. Carrion is notoriously bad at telling people no if they ask for anything, something that very much extends to his office and open-door policy, and it does his flimsiwork no favors. The lift dings and Carrion straightens, looking a little too relieved at the opportunity to escape the ribbing. “This is my stop. Bye Commander, General. I hope your talk with Commander Fox goes well.” Carrion hastily salutes at them before making a beeline down the hall where some shinies have all fallen on top of each other. Bly watches him go fondly.

“What floor is Commander Fox’s office on?” Aayla asks, and Bly tears his eyes away as the doors to the lift close.

“Oh, right. It’s this one.” He presses the button and Aayla frowns. “What?”

“That’s awfully far from the rest of the Guard, is it not?” Bly pauses. He’s… never actually thought about that. There’s a good eight floors between the other Commanders’ office and Fox’s, though, putting him closer to the nat-born Senate employees than the other  _ vode _ . That wouldn’t be so odd on a starship, where the nat-borns’ rooms tend to be by the Officers’ quarters (because Force forbid that they share barracks with  _ clones _ ), but this isn’t a starship. Aayla hums, clearly picking up on some of his thoughts. One of her lekku curls slightly. She doesn’t have her harness on today, and Bly has always been fascinated by how much her lekku actually  _ move _ when they aren’t being restrained. They’re so expressive, and it makes Bly sorely wish he’d read up on more lekku-sign so he actually knew what she meant.

“Thorn might know something about it,” he finally says, although he’s not sure if he believes it. That kind of decision was way over Thorn or even Fox’s heads. “I’ll ask him later.”

“We can stop by after we finish talking with your brother,” Aayla agrees, giving him a small smile. Bly can’t help but return it, even with the anxiety still brewing in the back of his mind. Aayla’s presence at his side is grounding in the best way possible, a steadying warmth at his side to remind him that he isn’t alone.

When the lift’s doors open again, Bly isn’t too surprised to see almost entirely nat-borns in the hall. The only other clone he sees is standing guard in front of some room further down the hall, stiff in a way that means he’s been standing there for a while. The Senatorial aides scatter as Bly and Aayla walk down the hall, giving them a wide berth even as they giggle and whisper to each other. They watch him intently, sweat beading up on the back of his neck as he stares resolutely forward. He feels like a piece of meat under their hungry gazes, and he tries to not let his discomfort show on his face. Aayla shifts so that their arms are brushing together and Bly inhales slowly, trying to tune it all out and take what reassurance he can from Aayla’s presence at his side. Arriving at Fox’s office could not come soon enough, and Bly is relieved to find the hall in front of it conspicuously empty. The tension he hadn’t realized he’d been carrying in his shoulders eases. He knocks on the door.

“Hey, Fox? It’s Bly.” There’s a moment of silence, but as Bly’s getting ready to knock again a light on the scanner flashes green. Unlocked. A little taken aback at the easiness of it - Fox is nothing if not a stubborn  _ shabuir _ , after all - Bly quickly shakes the feeling off and goes to open the door.

Fox is sitting at his desk, the stacks of flimsi and datapads around him a familiar sight. There’s a fairly decent amount, but Bly is starting to get the suspicion that Fox has been hiding a lot of his work whenever the batch visits him. It’s certainly more than he’s seen in the past, but it’s not nearly as bad as it had been in Rex’s photo. Thorn is also there, which Bly is a bit relieved by, sprawled over the corner chair with a ‘pad of his own in his lap. As Bly and Aayla enter, Thorn looks up and powers off the ‘pad, smoothly rising to his feet.

“Hello Commander Bly, General Secura,” Thorn says as he joins Fox behind the desk, standing at the other man’s shoulder. His tone is frosty and Bly can’t help but wince. Yeah, he’s  _ really _ glad Carrion gave them a heads-up.

“Just Aayla is fine,” Aayla says with a smile. Bly tries to get her to sit in the chair across from Fox, but finds him being pushed down into it instead. “It’s nice to meet you two, Commander Fox, Commander Thorn. Bly has told me a lot about you.” And  _ oh _ , it  _ hurts _ seeing Fox’s eyes go wide at that, like he’d never even thought that they might talk about him to their Jedi.

“All good things, I hope,” Thorn says smoothly, since Fox seems a bit at a loss for words for the moment. Bly sobers, leaning forward in his chair. He can’t just joke and talk around the bantha in the room, not about this.

“Carrion told you about my suspicions, didn’t he?” he asks quietly. Fox grimaces, crossing his arms over his chest and looking away.

“He did,” Bly’s brother says stiffly. Bly doesn’t notice he’s been biting his lip until one of Aayla’s lekku nudges him.

“Is it true?” his voice is barely louder than a whisper. He keeps it as gentle as he can, but Fox still flinches. Bly desperately wants it to not be true, for his mind to have just been jumping to conclusions after spending so much time on the battlefield, but deep down he already knows the answer. After a long moment of silence, Fox nods jerkily. Bly slumps back in his chair, all the exhaustion from his twelve years of life hit him all at once. “Force, vod,” he breathes out, feeling like he’s been punched in the gut. Aayla puts her hands on his shoulders, squeezing gently in wordless support. “Why didn’t you  _ say _ something?”

“Carrion left out one important thing out of the explanation he gave you,” Thorn says, expression grim. Behind him, Bly feels Aayla straighten up, her grip on his shoulders tightening. Fox tenses up, still not looking at them. Thorn gives him a worried look, but turns back to Bly and Aayla with a steely set to his shoulders. “It was a Jedi.” Everything in Bly’s brain comes to a grinding halt.

“What?” he manages to croak out. Surely- surely he had misheard something, right? The Jedi… they wouldn’t…

“You’re sure?” Aayla asks, sounding shaken. Thorn’s expression closes off but he nods once, the motion sharp and terse. “Force. Does the Council know yet?”

“No,” Thorn says shortly. “Only Generals Skywalker and Kenobi are aware of the situation at the moment.” This looks like it’s news to Fox, but he quickly hides his surprise. “We’ve been trying to keep this as under the radar as possible so as to not tip whoever it is off.” Bly blinks.

“Wait, you don’t know who it is?” He glances over at his brother and winces. Fox’s face might as well be a durasteel wall for all that he’s showing on it right now, which isn’t a good sign. Fox isn’t a very expressive person as a rule, but that kind of blank face is usually reserved for reporting on a mission gone horribly wrong. “Fox?” he asks, concern rising.

“If they used a mind trick to coerce you or remove their identity, the temple healers may be able to help,” Aayla says, sounding shaken but still trying to maintain her composure. Fox pales several shades, going an ashen white.

“They can  _ do _ that?” Fox croaks, grabbing onto the edge of his desk hard, as if it’s the only thing grounding him, keeping him from crumbling. It’s not reassuring in the slightest for Bly to see that Thorn looks just as alarmed by this reaction as he is - it only makes the noxious bad feeling in his stomach worsen. He thinks Aayla nods, but he can’t tear his eyes away from his brother.

“It’s possible,” she says after a moment, picking her words carefully. “Mind tricks usually can’t be used to overwrite a person’s will, especially for somebody as strong-willed as a clone trooper.” Thorn hums, stroking his chin and looking thoughtful.

“Fox,” he says slowly. “You said you  _ do _ know who it is, correct?” Fox nods reluctantly, eyeing his second with considerable suspicion and no small dose of wariness. “But you told Tooka and I that he did something, something to stop you from telling.” Fox winces, which means Thorn is right on the target. Bly’s heart catches in his chest.

“Could I ask what this thing stopping you is?” Aayla asks, her frown evident in her voice. Thorn narrows his eyes, looking down at Fox.

“Yeah, now that I think about it, you never did tell us exactly what it was.” Fox has a vaguely hunted look on his face as the two of them look at him expectantly. Bly sighs and taps Aayla’s hand.

“General, he probably doesn’t know how to explain it,” he reminds her. “We can’t feel the Force like you can, remember?” She smiles at him a bit sheepishly before turning back to Fox.

“My apologies Commander, I was getting ahead of myself.”

“...It’s fine,” Fox says after a moment, like he doesn’t know what to do with the apology. “If I say anything that might reveal his identity something… stops me.” Aayla hums, tapping her chin in thought.

“Would you be able to do so now, Commander? I might be able to discern more through the Force if you could demonstrate.” Fox’s nose wrinkles in a way that means he’s been lying and has just realized that it’s about to blow up in his face. Bly sighs internally. Some things never change, he thinks, half exasperated and half fond. Fox eyes them, weighing his chances of being able to escape the conversation, but Bly catches his gaze and gives him a pointed look. Fox scowls back at him, but pushes himself to his feet and moves away from his desk. He nudges a pile of datapads away with his foot, clearing a small area. Bly watches him, Thorn’s baffled expression echoing his own feelings.

Fox’s movements are stiff and robotic in a way that means he’s operating half on auto-pilot, and Bly tries his best to quell the rising anxiety in his chest as he watches. His brother’s armor does nothing to hide the tension in his shoulders, the muscles as tense as beskar and no less unyielding. One of the stacks of datapads tips over, and Fox takes longer than usual correcting it.

Finally, Fox turns back to face them, falling into parade rest. He won’t quite look at them, staring off at some point beyond Aayla’s shoulder, and it makes Bly’s stomach clench uneasily. “It’s-” Fox’s words cut off abruptly, his eyes going wide as he chokes on nothing. Aayla jerks forward, a sound of alarm escaping her as her lekku point straight down. Bly leaps to his feet, but finds himself frozen in his tracks, watching with horror as his brother gasps for air, hands going to his neck even though there’s nothing there for him to grab. His lips are starting to go blue, but there’s nothing Bly can do, no attacker for him to shoot, and all he can do is watch.

Aayla has a hand in the air, brows furrowed in concentration. There’s the tingle Bly has come to associate with her using the Force, and it makes his knees a little weak to feel the sheer determination she’s channelling as she fights off Fox’s attacker. Sweat beads on her forehead, the strain clear on her face, but she doesn’t relent for even a second.

Finally,  _ finally _ , Fox collapses to his knees, chest heaving as he greedily takes in air. Thorn hurries to his side, dropping down to check Fox’s vitals and wrap an arm around him. Fox sags into his touch, closing his eyes and turning his face away from them like he’s trying to hide. Bly’s heart aches like an open wound, and he wants nothing more than to reassure Fox but he can’t find the words, stricken mute by what he had just witnessed. “See?” Thorn says tersely, looking up at Bly and Aayla. There’s a scowl on his face, but his brows are pinched with worry and his eyes keep darting back down to Fox. Bly is just relieved that  _ someone _ is looking out for Fox when he can’t. “We told you it was a Jedi. Only the Force could do something like that.”

“It’s a Force user, alright,” Aayla says grimly as she finally lowers her outstretched hand. Her face is ashen, and Bly’s stomach sinks impossibly further. “But it isn’t a _Jedi_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've been dealing with a bit of an emotional rollercoaster lately bc of events in my irl life, so i'm sorry that this took three weeks to get out. i had most of it done but things happened and i only just got around to finishing it up
> 
> (bly also wouldn't shut up, so that didn't particularly help either)


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: just references to palpatine being shitty, pretty much

“Not a Jedi?” Thorn repeats incredulously, holding Fox tighter to his chest. Had they not just proven that it was some Force  _ osik _ ? What the kriff was Bly’s General on about? General Secura nods, brows furrowed as she looks down at them with a troubled expression.

“This geas - it has all the hallmarks of a Sith’s work.” Bly’s head snaps around and he stares at her in shock. Thorn frowns. The word sounds familiar - he knows he’s heard it before, but the meaning keeps eluding him.

“Sith?” Fox croaks, voice hoarse. He sounds like shit, not that that’s a surprise after what he just went through. Thorn rummages through Fox’s desk with his free hand, fumbling around until his fingers brush up against a canteen. He fishes it out and passes it to Fox, who takes it gratefully.

“A Dark Force user,” Secura explains as Fox gulps down water. “They were thought to be extinct until recently, but the war revealed that Dooku had Fallen and begun training an apprentice of his own.” Thorn narrows his eyes. Dooku certainly fits the criteria Fox has given them, but there’s no way the Seperatist’s leader would be able to visit Coruscant with any degree of frequency and go undetected.

“What’s the difference?” he asks instead, turning his thoughts over in his head.

“The Sith channel the dark side of the Force, using strong emotions such as anger or hatred. It’s… corrupting, in many ways, and using it erodes one’s character.” Secura sighs, looking troubled. “They’re most easily identified by a red lightsaber and yellow eyes.” Fox inhales sharply as Thorn’s heart catches in his throat. Yellow eyes. No  _ wonder _ Fox had reacted so badly back in the meeting.

Thorn glances down at Fox and feels his heart ache. Fox looks so  _ lost _ , still staring up at Secura in confusion, like he can’t possibly process what she’s saying. Bly finally shakes himself out of whatever stupor he’d been in and rushes over, dropping to his knees and enveloping Fox in a tight hug. Thorn’s arm gets a little squished in the process, and Fox definitely flinches when Bly first touches him, but after a long moment Fox starts to relax. He’s still tenser than three vode put together, but it’s something.

Secura is watching them with a soft look on her face, despite the tinge of sadness to her features. She lets them have their moment uninterrupted, but when Bly starts to pull back she gently clears her throat.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to alert the Jedi Council to this new information, Commander,” she says to Fox, sounding apologetic. Fox flinches, but Thorn finds that he’s reluctantly agreeing with her. Now that it’s become clear that the Jedi are innocent in the matter, there’s finally somebody who can control this situation and have the power to do something about it beyond their little illicit investigation. He really does hate to put Fox through all this, but it’s clear that this is bigger than just Fox. Fox’s mind must be traveling along similar lines, because he exhales shakily and gives Secura a jerky nod.

“Yes, sir,” he rasps out, only sounding marginally better than before. Her features soften and she crouches down so that she’s eye-level with the rest of them.

“Commander, I understand how hard this is for you,” she says gently. “While the situation needs to be addressed, I’d like to assure you that this will be treated with the utmost prudence. Your identity will not be broadcast, nor will you be punished for the secrets you have kept.” Fox shudders at this, hiding his face in Bly’s shoulder. The glimpse of his expression that Thorn had seen was so raw and desperate that it gutted him, a level of vulnerability that Fox hasn’t shown since they were just starting out as cadets. Secura looks at Fox’s turned back sorrowfully before she moves her gaze to Thorn.

“I should be able to arrange a meeting with the full council by tomorrow,” she says, a thread of durasteel in her voice for all that it’s still soft. Thorn blinks. ...He’s starting to see where Bly’s infatuation comes from, now.

“Yes ma’am,” Thorn says, pulling his arm out from where it’s been awkwardly crushed between Bly and Fox’s bodies. His fingers have gone numb and his hand is halfway there, and when Thorn finally gets it free he makes a face at the pins-and-needles feeling that covers it. He stretches out his hand a few times, trying to get the blood flowing, before he checks his comm for his and Fox’s schedules. He sees Bly’s eyebrows shoot up as he sees the calenders, looking at Thorn sidelong with a healthy dose of incredulity. He doesn’t say anything, though, just keeps rubbing Fox’s back and holding him close.

Fox’s days are pretty much packed full, guard stints back to back with patrols and missions. Fox is meticulous about his time-keeping, and Thorn can’t really blame him, not after he lost nine hours and woke up to find his whole day off-kilter. Even Fox’s flimsiwork has a slot, even though Thorn knows all too well that Fox works way past that deadline more often than not. Fox doesn’t even really have breaks scheduled in beyond the thirty minutes he takes for mid-meal, but Fox is prone to working through that and only remembers to get food for it about seventy percent of the time. Thorn’s own schedule - and Stone’s, for that matter - are much emptier. Part of it is because Senators like to be able to speak to “the head of the Coruscant Guard” and go to him with anything from the pettiest of complaints to demands of decommissioning one of their men, but there’s no way for Fox to tell beforehand which one it is, so he goes to as many of them as he can.

Thorn shifts those to Thire’s schedule. Stone knows how to keep his mouth shut around Senators, but dealing with that kind of stuff all day will get to him a lot more than it will the level-headed lieutenant. It’s not like nat-borns can really tell them apart either, so Thire could probably get away with borrowing one of their armor for the day and dodge the fuss about his rank entirely. Nobody  _ likes _ wearing another brother’s armor, but the Guard tends to care a lot less about it than most  _ vode _ . So many of them have interchangeable armor that there’s pretty much no difference borrowing a set.

Stone and some of the other officers get sent Fox’s patrols and guard duties, spread out among them to lessen the burden. It’s pretty short notice, but they’ve dealt with worse. Stone will probably bitch at Thorn that night, but it shouldn’t cause any actual issues.

The flimsiwork, Thorn deletes off the calendar entirely. There’s a vaguely disgruntled noise off to his side, and Thorn looks up to see that Fox has lifted his head enough to give him a narrow-eyed stare. Thorn rolls his eyes. “We both know you’ll end up doing it anyways, what’s the point in putting it on your schedule?” Fox huffs and turns away, which means that Thorn is right and Fox knows it, but he’s too stubborn to actually admit that. A smile curves at the edges of Thorn’s lips as he goes back to the comms and gives the schedules one final check before finalizing them and sending them off. “There. We should be clear for most of the day.”

“I’ll have Bly contact you as soon as I get things finalized,” Secura says with a smile. “I’m afraid it may take a bit to wrangle the Council into compliance.” Thorn can’t imagine  _ wrangling _ the Jedi Council, but to each their own. Jedi are just baffling sometimes. Secura rises to her feet, stretching out. Bly hesitates, looking between Secura and Fox with a torn look on his face. It’s clear that he doesn’t want to leave Fox alone, but neither does he want to let his General go off on her own. Thorn snorts and claps him on the shoulder.

“Go ahead, I’ll keep an eye on this one and make sure he gets some rest.” Fox makes an offended noise, but Thorn pointedly ignores him. Fox wouldn’t know self-care if it bit him on the shebs. Bly sighs and pulls Fox into another crushing hug before he stands and joins his General.

“Don’t think this means you’re getting out of going to 79’s with me this week,” Bly warns, jabbing a finger in Fox’s direction with narrowed eyes. Fox lets out a startled laugh, and something in Thorn’s chest eases at the sound.

They aren’t okay, but… maybe they will be.

Thire knows that something is wrong as soon as he goes by the Medbay to find that Tooka’s been replaced with the 327th’s CMO. Carrion is nice enough, and Thire chats with him a bit while getting the lay of the land. It’s not surprising that Tooka pulled an all-nighter and had it backfire on them, considering how stressed they’ve been lately - it was really only a matter of time. He probably wouldn’t think anything of it, if not for how shift Carrion’s acting whenever it comes up. Thire narrows his eyes. The medic is probably a worse liar than Thorn, but he’s good at keeping his mouth shut and Thire walks away with more questions than answers. If Thire were a more insecure man, he might have felt miffed at the sheer look of relief on Carrion’s face when another trooper had wandered in and he could finally make his escape, but he mostly just finds it amusing. Senators are leagues worse, after all, and at least Carrion is  _ polite _ .

The second big sign is a message from Thorn, assigning him a load of meetings with a bunch of Senators and Senatorial aides. Thire just looks down at his comm in dismay. Dealing with Senators in a good mood is hard enough, and having to deal with them in a  _ bad _ mood is even worse. Thire can’t think of anything he’s done lately that might have pissed Thorn off enough to dump this pile of  _ osik _ on him, no matter how hard he wracks his brain. Hells, Thorn had even thanked him for taking over the Guard a while back!

Thire sighs and adds the meetings to his schedule anyways. As he does so, something starts to bother him about it. They seem oddly familiar, but Thire can’t quite put his finger on why. It’s not until he sees a meeting with Senator Amidala that things click into place.

These are Fox’s meetings. Which means that something has happened to Fox, again. It must be something important if Thorn is clearing Fox’s whole schedule like this, and it makes Thire frown. Things have been… hectic, lately, like the Guard’s foundation’s been rattled and they’re all caught off balance. Normally, the Commanders serve as that foundation, but, well, Fox clearly isn’t particularly steady himself right now, Thorn has been trying to shore up Fox, and Stone’s only on Coruscant about half the time. Thankfully, Stone is actually on-planet for once, with no missions coming up, so there’s at least  _ that _ . One day of trying to run the Guard on his own was enough, thank you very much, and Thire has never been so relieved to see Stone before in his life. 

Thire sighs heavily thinking about it. He’s really starting to understand Commander Fox’s caf addiction, now. Just thinking about all this  _ osik _ is making him exhausted, and he hasn’t even had to actually  _ deal _ with it yet. His comm dings with another message and he groans. Maybe he could just… not answer? It wasn’t an urgent alert, so he could probably get away with it.

It dings again, and Thire reluctantly looks at it. It’s Thorn again, and Thire hopes to Manda that it isn’t  _ more _ work to do.

**Thorn (CC-1599):** Sorry for the sudden workload, vod’ika

**Thorn (CC-1599):** Fox was called in to a Jedi Council meeting on short notice. No clue how long it’s going to take, so I cleared his whole day.

Thire makes a face. That  _ does _ make sense, more or less. Thire had been in the general vicinity when General Yoda had contacted the rest of the Council after their mission together, and Fox and the Temple are both on Coruscant. Easier to call him there then set up a holo-call. He just doesn’t know  _ why _ the Council would be calling on Fox. Fox sticks to Coruscant like a burr, and these days most of the Jedi are out on the frontlines, only coming to the Core for leave or other Jedi business in the Temple.

Well, whatever it is, it’s technically none of Thire’s business. It’s probably above his paygrade (not that he actually  _ gets _ paid) and Thire is really only thinking about it because he’s too curious for his own good sometimes. He’s not Tooka, who absorbs all the gossip around them and then guards it like a dragon protecting its horde, but he still likes to be in the loop. And if that extra knowledge gives him an edge up over some of his brothers? Well, they say all’s fair in love and war, and Thire has a sabacc streak to maintain. Can’t let the shinies get complacent, after all.

He’ll keep his ears open, but he’s not going to go looking. It’s easier to maintain plausible deniability that way, just in case Fox gets wind of it. If things keep up like this, though… Well, maybe Thire will think about using that comm code he’s had stashed for the better part of the war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this ch is so short!! things got even more chaotic irl and this chapter was just not wanting to flow. it's probably not my best work but at least its something?
> 
> anyways! thank god 2020 is over and happy new years


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is just. pure filler. the council will be here next chapter i swear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: non-graphic discussion of sexual assault

“What?” Rex says incredulously, looking at Thorn’s fuzzy holo-image. “A  _ Council _ meeting? I thought we were keeping this off the books.” The other Commander sighs, running a hand through his messy hair.

“It’s… complicated,” Thorn hedges, face twisting in a grimace. He glances off at something outside of the holo worriedly before looking back at Rex. “It’s even riskier to talk about over comms than the other stuff.” Rex frowns. What could be worse than the investigation? A Jedi assaulting a vod was already their worst nightmare, and that had already happened twice over. “I can probably get you in if you want to talk about what’s happened with your man, but this isn’t directly about that or Fox’s situation. It’s tangentially related, but that’s about as much as I feel comfortable with telling you over a comm with this level of encryption.”

“Fair enough,” Rex relents, drumming his fingers against the table. What in the Force’s name could be  _ tangentially related _ to the case without a direct tie but still need to go to the Council? Thorn learned his stubbornness from the best, though, so Rex doesn’t even try to push the man for more information, as much as he wants to. “I’ll take you up on that offer, I think. Two birds, one shot and all that. Might as well get it out of the way while they’re all still gathered.” Thorn nods, eyes once again darting off to the side. Rex sighs. “Just hang up and go take care of him, Thorn,” he says tiredly. Thorn startles, looking at Rex in surprise. Despite the situation, a frission of amusement rises in Rex’s chest and he snorts. “You aren’t subtle, vod, and I know how Fox gets. If this is going to the Council…” he trails off, letting his words hang in the air. Fox hadn’t even wanted to tell them about it, let alone  _ look into it _ . Going to the Council is a step beyond even that, and Rex has little doubt that Fox is stressed beyond belief thinking about it. Thorn purses his lips and nods shortly.

“...I’ll call you back later,” he says finally. “General Secura is coordinating things, so if you want details about the meeting you should probably comm Bly.” Rex nods, not letting his confusion show on his face. Bly? How was Bly involved in this? What had  _ happened _ since he left the Guard HQ? It’s only been a few hours and yet it feels like days have passed since Rex was sitting in that meeting room waiting for Tooka to arrive. 

Mind buzzing, Rex barely even registers Thorn signing off, only responding out of rote habit before he’s left with an empty comm. He stares at it. Force, he wishes Cody was on Courscant right now. He could use somebody to talk to about this, and his brother has always given good advice despite being a flaming hypocrite. But Cody isn’t here and Rex is left to turn things over in his own mind, trying desperately to make sense of his jumbled thoughts.

Exhaling slowly, Rex sets the comm aside. Sitting here brooding isn’t going to help, all that will happen is him twisting himself up deeper and deeper until he can’t tell up from down. Suddenly the silence around him seems oppressive, the emptiness echoing and weighing him down as it seems to fill up the space around him. Rex hates it, has always hated being alone for all that he enjoys a bit of privacy, and he desperately wants nothing more than to be around his brothers and just  _ exist _ . He wishes he were back on Kamino, where he could go surround himself with cadets and tubies until his mind stopped being so loud and his heart no longer felt like it was beating out of his chest. He can’t do that, but Rex still has little brothers here on Coruscant. He takes a deep breath, tries to settle himself, and then sets off in the direction of the barracks.

Tooka wakes up feeling like death warmed over. They stare blankly at the ceiling above their bunk as they try to remember how they got into bed and coming up alarmingly short. It takes longer than it probably should before they remember Dogma, Carrion, that kriffing  _ meeting _ -

Tooka sits bolt upright in their bunk, eyes wide. Kriff, they can’t believe they passed out before everything got sorted out! It’s not like them at all - it’s usually impossible for them to sleep if they know that there’s loose ends about that they could be tying up, and certainly not as easily as Tooka had fallen asleep. If it had been anyone but Carrion, Tooka would have suspected that they’d drugged them, but Carrion generally isn’t a fan of underhanded medical techniques and probably would be hovering over them to make sure that he hadn’t kriffed something up by accident. Sometimes Tooka worries about high-strung that vod is, seriously.

They shake their head, pulling the blanket off and swinging their legs off the side of the bunk. Carrion - because it must have been Carrion who brought them here - was considerate enough to leave out a fresh set of medic whites for them, neatly folded on top of the locker Tooka uses as a bedside table. Tooka gratefully exchanges their dingy, rumpled set for the clean ones, the small change helping settle them a little more as the lingering grogginess falls away. Everything is coming back in stark detail, and Tooka feels just as unsettled as they had last night when Dogma had sat down across from them and spilled his heart out. 

And kriff, that had been one hell of a way to spend their night. Tooka has never regretted the personality they’ve cultivated until right then, when a shiny was falling apart in front of them and all they could do was hand him some tissues and coax him into speaking. They aren’t  _ good _ at comforting people in any way except dry humor, and that wasn’t appropriate when Dogma was seeking Tooka out in a professional capacity and clearly needed the support of an authority figure and not that of a fellow vod. Still, it bothers them, an aching helplessness in their chest that reminds them far too much of when their medics would come back confused and distraught with hours missing from their minds.

Tooka exhales heavily and runs a hand through their hair to get it into some kind of semblance of order. They’re too tired to actually brush it right now, but they do like looking nice and the shinies get worried if they start getting too disheveled. The last thing Tooka needs to deal with right now is more upset shinies. They grimace at the thought and smooth out their medic whites one last time before exiting their quarters. The barracks are fairly empty except for a few vode napping. Tooka stops to check Key’s forehead as they pass, frowning as they note that it’s a bit warmer than usual. He looks a little peaky too, so Tooka will keep an eye on him for a few days and see if it clears up or if they’ll need to drag him to the Medbay for a proper exam.

Carrion is probably in the Medbay. It’s where Tooka would be if they were in his shoes, and Tooka is familiar enough with Carrion’s proclifity for being unable to say no to a request for help. They huff. He really needs to get a spine one of these days. Even so, they head off in the direction of the Medbay.

Tooka is passing the rec room when there’s a flash of blue in the corner of their vision. Their head snaps around, quickly spotting the odd man out in the mess of vode lounging around the room. Fives is in the back corner, Blast’s squad sitting at his feet and watching with rapt attention as he tells them some kind of story. A few vode nearby are not-so-subtly eavesdropping, clearly enjoying whatever tale is being told, but Tooka can’t help but notice the tension in Fives’ shoulders, the stiffness to his face even as he tries to hide it behind a smile. They grimace and look away, guilt rising in their chest. They shove it down as best as they can and briskly turn to walk away. Hound jogs over and catches them right as they’re about to turn around the corner and they flinch, jerking around.

There’s a faintly apologetic look on Hound’s face that Tooka pointedly ignores, staring at him impatiently until Hound finally speaks. “Oh, right! Um, the 327th’s CMO is in the Med-”

“I figured,” they cut him off, not really in the mood to humor him. The confirmation of their suspicions is appreciated, though, so they try not to be too curt with him. “Anything else?” Hound watches them for a moment, eyes narrowed.

“...Yeah, you look like  _ osik _ ,” he says bluntly. Tooka snorts and Hound cracks a grin. “Nah, Thire’s been in a huff - something about getting a bunch of Commander Fox’s meetings for tomorrow? - but he’s just complaining for the sake of complaining.” Tooka hums, making sure to take a mental note about the bit with Fox. They really hadn’t been at their best during the meeting, but they weren’t  _ blind _ . They could still tell he was rattled, and while Thorn has hopefully been keeping an eye on him, they’d still like to see for themselves that he’s at least moderately okay. They make a face. Fox hadn’t been hitting the threshold for ‘okay’ since a few months into the war, and there’s no doubt that the current situation has hit him particularly hard. Genetically engineered or not, his body really does not need to be put through any more stress. One of these days the Commander’s heart is just going to give out from either the stress or the stims, whichever comes first. Tooka sighs.

They’ll deal with Carrion first, and then they can check up on Fox. A tentative plan of action in place, they clap Hound on the shoulder in a wordless thanks and then continue back towards the Medbay.

Carrion spots them as soon as they enter the room, straightening up and quickly handing a datapad off to Slip so that he can hurry over to Tooka. “You’re already awake?” he exclaims, foregoing pleasantries entirely as he scans them with his eyes as if they’ll suddenly reveal themself to be a hologram in disguise. Tooka scoffs.

“I slept for ten hours, that’s more than I usually get in one night,” they point out. Carrion makes a face, but he knows better than to try and argue sleep schedules with them. It’s not like he’s any better, but medics are very much a ‘do as I say and not as I do’ type. Thorn would just call them hypocrites, but Thorn is a  _ di’kut _ and Tooka  _ will _ strangle him the next time he makes a ‘mother-tooka’ joke. Carrion clears his throat a bit pointedly, so some of their plotting must have leaked onto their face. They clear it, looking over at Carrion with absolute innocence in their eyes. Carrion scoffs loudly.

“Oh please, you’ve never been innocent a day in your life,” he says snippily, and Tooka lets the mask fall to crack a smirk. He’s not wrong. Tooka has been accused of ‘being a conniving bastard’ many a time, and it’s a title they’re rather fond of. Carrion gives them a narrow-eyed look, probably guessing where their mind is going, before he sobers. Tooka’s good humor falls away like a discarded cloak. “Sitrep in your office?” Tooka nods wordlessly, striding over to their office door and holding it open for Carrion to enter. Carrion bypasses the stool entirely, instead choosing to lean against one of the tables as he runs a hand through his hair. The gesture only causes several loose strands to fall out of the nerf-tail, and Tooka’s eye twitches as they’re hit with the overwhelming and irrational frustration that seeing the errant strands escaping and falling around Carrion’s face causes. It’s stupid and they know it’s stupid, but for a moment they want nothing more than to shove Carrion into the chair and fix his hair like their life depends on it. They grimace and carefully set the irritation aside, taking a deep breath. It’s probably not a good sign that they’re stressed enough that messy hair is setting them off, and for a moment Tooka thinks wistfully of their now-empty bunk. It would be nice to go back, to hide in there and not think about the brothers hurting and dying around them, their world diminished to their tiny quarters with nothing existing outside of those four walls. They don’t let the thought linger, though.

They have a job to do, and dwelling on fantasies never does anyone any good. Tooka exhales heavily, dropping down into their chair. “Anything big happen while I was out?” they question, feeling exhausted even though they’ve been awake for less than an hour. Carrion shakes his head and a weight Tooka didn’t realize was on their chest disappears.

“Not as far as I know. I’m not tapped in to the gossip chains here, but things have been pretty low-key today.” Carrion winces and Tooka pointedly arches an eyebrow. “...Commander Thire may have come by and pressed me a bit for answers,” he says awkwardly. “I didn’t tell him anything, but…”

“But you’re a shitty liar,” Tooka finishes his sentence, nodding. Carrion looks sheepish but doesn’t even try to deny it. Carrion has always been acutely aware of just who he is, flaws and all, and Tooka has to at least begrudgingly respect how settled he is in his identity “Right. If you don’t mind sticking around for a bit longer, I have some work I need to catch up on…”

“I can help,” Carrion agrees readily. “Medbay or in here?” Tooka lets out a gust of breath, inordinately relived that they and Carrion seem to be on the same wavelength.

“Medbay. I just need someone to keep an eye on the shinies and make sure that nobody manages to blow anything up.” Carrion nods, brows furrowed in thought. Tooka pauses, unsure what could have caused that kind of reaction. After a long moment of silence, Carrion speaks.

“Your shinies… they’re really young, aren’t they?” There’s the kind of resignation in his tone that tells Tooka that Carrion already knows the answer, but they confirm it anyways.

“...Yeah. We get them at eight and a half these days, and the Commanders try to get as many of them into ‘safe positions’ as possible, so...” They sigh. “It’s why we have such a high proportion of non-field medics compared to other battalions.” Realization dawns on Carrion’s face, but it’s a cold and hollow understanding, the words unspoken between them weighing heavily on both of their minds.

They stay like that for a bit, the office silent but for the murmurs and noise drifting through the door. Abruptly, Carrion exhales heavily and pushes off the table. “I’d better head back before someone messes with the bone-mender I was fixing.” Tooka’s eye twitches. Oh he  _ didn’t _ .

“What did you do to my bone-mender?” they demand. Carrion, wisely, makes his escape. “Carrion! What the kriff did you do?!” Carrion laughs as he weaves throughout the carefully controlled chaos of the Medbay, making his way over to the machine he has all but gutted. Tooka’s grip on the doorframe tightens and they have to very firmly remind themself that killing your brother for fucking with your equipment is generally frowned upon.

Plus, there’s far too many witnesses around at the moment anyways.

Obi-Wan has a bad feeling about the Council notice he’s just gotten. He stares down at it, heart caught somewhere in his throat, and wonders what the odds are that this is about Fox and not one of the other million and one issues the Jedi are trying to deal with.

And then he sees who requested the meeting. Aayla Secura. His stomach drops. Cody had told him that Bly was going to check on Fox when they were on Coruscant, and Obi-Wan is more than aware of how close Aayla and her clone Commander are. He swallows, mouth suddenly very dry.

They must have found something. It’s the only explanation that makes sense. Either Rex had gone through his brother to get the investigation moved to an official level - an unfortunately probable scenario, considering that Anakin tended to drop off the grid to go visit Senator Amidala - or something else entirely had come up while Aayla and Bly were visiting the Guard.

Or maybe it has nothing to do with that at all, and Obi-Wan is just seeing connections that aren’t there. It bothers him more than he wants to admit, and even after meditating for nearly an hour he still can’t quite shake it.

Cody has clearly picked up on Obi-Wan’s strange feeling if the side-eye Obi-Wan has been getting for the past twenty minutes is any indication, but Obi-Wan pointedly ignores him and continues moving through his katas. Usually, he isn’t one for moving meditation, but right now there’s an unsettled energy humming in his bones that he hasn’t felt in years.

Obi-Wan’s a little surprised that Cody manages to go another ten minutes before breaking, walking over to Obi-Wan and shoving a canteen at him. Obi-Wan takes it, suddenly realizing just how parched he was, and quickly drains half the container while Cody watches him with sharp eyes. When he’s done, wiping his mouth off on the back of his hand, Cody finally speaks.

“You’re acting off,” Cody says, although it’s more like a demand. Obi-Wan sighs. Sometimes he really does hate just how perceptive his men are - although dealing with Anakin for so long may have just warped his perception of what the standard level of obliviousness is. As obtuse and frustrating as Anakin and his denseness could be, at least Obi-Wan had been able to struggle with his own demons in privacy when they surfaced, not having to worry about Anakin realizing just how broken and kriffed-up Obi-Wan was.

There’s none of that on the  _ Negotiator _ . Obi-Wan’s men are simply too sharp, too wary, too used to waiting for their own death-sentences to miss even the most subtle hints in body language and behavior. It’s nice sometimes, to have people see him struggling and still support him, but it mostly just leaves him feeling raw and exposed. Vulnerable.

“There’s a Council meeting tomorrow,” Obi-Wan says, expressing none of this. “I don’t have a particularly good feeling about it.” Cody makes a face, all too aware of Obi-Wan’s ‘bad feelings’ and what they tended to mean. Despite everything, Obi-Wan chuckles at his usually serious Commander making such an immature expression. It’s very endearing. He’s glad the man feels safe enough to drop his mask like this, no matter how much…

Well, it’s not worth dwelling on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> am i posting this at three am bc i have no self control? perhaps.
> 
> on a more serious note, something that's been coming up in the comments a lot lately is questions about if this fic is abandoned/asking me to update. if this fic ever gets abandoned - which isn't going to happen any time soon - i'll update the fic accordingly, not just disappear. i know i've been taking a while to update, which is partially because this is a pretty complicated point in the story and partially because i'm still dealing with some major stuff irl, but it hasn't been *that* long. i do appreciate that y'all like this enough to want more, btw!! but yeah. not abandoned, im just slow as hell.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fox's expectations are subverted (and for once, it's a good thing)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: palpatine's general sith shitiness and discussion of abortion. It's not graphic, but characters are beginning to plan for it

Depa isn’t really sure what she’d been expecting when she saw the Council memo, but it wasn’t this. The ‘this’, in this case, happens to be Aayla Secura walking into the Council room with a grimly determined look on her face and three clone Commanders at her heels. Commander Bly Depa recognizes, of course, but she isn’t familiar with the other two beyond their clear affiliation with the Coruscant Guard.

“Masters,” Aayla greets cordially, bowing lightly.

“Knight Secura,” Yoda says, holding his gimmer stick. “Called you have, a sudden meeting. The reason for it, we would like to know.” Aayla nods, taking a moment to calm herself and release some of her tension into the Force.

“Masters, I believe we have a lead on the Sith Lord’s identity.” Immediately, the chamber devolves into chaos. Depa ignores it as best as she can, instead choosing to watch Aayla, who stands perfectly still. Only the twitch of her lekku belies her irritation.

“On leave, you were supposed to be,” Yoda says with a deep frown. Aayla nods.

“I was. Commander Bly and I had gone to visit Commander Fox,” she dips her head in the direction of the red-armored trooper. “at the Coruscant Guard’s headquarters, eventually leading me to discover a Sith geas placed on a trooper.” Several of the other Council members inhale sharply. Depa bites back a hiss. A geas in the hands of a Sith is a cruel tool, especially to someone who wouldn’t be able to recognize it as such in the Force.

“General, if I may?” Commander Fox steps forward, voice flat. Aayla frowns, looking like she wants to deny him, but she glances over at Bly and sighs, waving Fox forward. Depa frowns, noting the interaction. Commander Fox’s presence in the Force seems still, but Depa doesn’t have to even try to feel the turmoil lying beneath it. “Thank you.” Fox straightens up to face the Council at large. “Approximately a fortnight ago, one of my medics discovered that a trooper was pregnant.” Depa’s heart sinks. She might not know where this is going quite yet, but between ‘Sith Lord’ and ‘pregnancy’, she has a very bad feeling about how this meeting is going to go. “When pressed about the other parent’s identity, the trooper indicated that it had been a Force user and that they were unable to speak about it. Upon General Secura’s visit, this was demonstrated in order to aid in locating this Force user, at which point General Secura identified it as a Sith geas.” Depa frowns. It’s a statement that opens more questions than it answers, and she glances over at Aayla. To her surprise, Aayla has a frown on her face as she looks at Fox’s back. Something about this still feels off, and Depa didn’t need to be able to see shatterpoints to know that something big was coming.

“Bring this to the Jedi earlier, you did not,” Yoda says carefully, weighing each word before he spoke.

“...No, sir. The Guard was operating under the misconception that all Force users were Jedi.” Depa’s heart bleeds for them, reading between the lines all too easily. Force, it’s a wonder that they came before the Council at all after laboring under that kind of suspicion for so long. Not for the first time, Depa admires how strong the clone troopers are in heart and mind, for all that she wished they didn’t have to go through the experiences they did to get there.

“Thank you for bringing this matter to us, Commander. I know it could not have been easy for you,” Depa says with a soft, sad smile. Commander Fox just stares at her for a moment before giving her an awkward nod. It’s a discomfiting reaction, and Depa exchanges a look with Shaak Ti.

“How is the trooper?” The Togruta asks, looking concerned. “Have they been physically harmed from either the pregnancy or the geas?”

“No, sir,” Commander Thorn says, taking a step forward to join Fox, hand hovering over the other man’s lower back like he wants to steady him. “Our medics have been looking into terminating the pregnancy but no serious health complications have come up.” There’s a stubborn tilt to his chin and in his Force presence that Depa doesn’t understand, but there’s something important there.

“What is the identity of this trooper?” Ki-Adi Mundi asks, a deep frown on his face. “They should be moved to the temple immediately for their own protection.” Commander Fox visibly hesitates at that, Thorn looking over at him worriedly. Depa’s heart sinks as she feels Aayla’s sorrow rise in the Force.

“...It’s me, sir,” Fox says finally. Depa inhales sharply. A pulse of pain comes over her bond with her Master and she shoots a look in his direction only to find him closing his eyes tightly. This was the shatterpoint, then. The realization sinks into her bones. This is _important_. She’s saddened that this would happen to any clone, but for it to be Commander Fox, a man who has barely left Coruscant since the war began and spends most of his days amongst Senators, is a particularly kind of alarming. Depa sees that Obi-Wan looks pale even through the holo and remembers what he had told them after Geonosis, what Count Dooku had told him at the arena. A Sith in the Senate. They’d all hoped it wasn’t true, that it was just a machination of Dooku’s, but it seemed it wasn’t so.

“Masters,” Aayla says, stepping forward and breaking the stunned silence. “The geas on Commander Fox Force chokes him when he attempts to reveal his attacker’s identity. If there’s a way we could overcome it, it’s possible that we could unveil the Sith Lord and bring this war to an end.” The spike of fear that comes off of Commander Fox is not lost on anyone, nor is the the speed with which he hides it.

“Commander Fox,” Depa says, leaning forward in her seat. “Would you allow one of us to meditate with you and assess the situation for ourselves?” Fox stays frozen in place for a long moment before nodding jerkily. The other clones are all radiating concern into the force, strong enough that it’s almost tangible. Fox clearly isn’t comfortable with the idea of letting someone into his head - not that Depa can blame him - and as much as it is a necessary evil, there’s no need to make it harder than it absolutely has to be. “Is there one of us you would prefer to do this with?” She asks gently. Fox hesitates for a moment before jerking his head in her Master’s direction. Depa is a bit surprised - Mace was usually not considered to be the most approachable of men to outsiders.

“I’d prefer if General Windu did it, if it’s not an inconvenience, sir.” Fox’s words are terse and clipped, belying his anxiety. Mace nods, rising to his feet and summoning two cushions from the other side of the room. Depa sees Yoda huff at the frivolous use of the Force, but she can’t bring herself to care, not right now.

“Are you familiar with the concepts of protecting your mind like your brothers are?” Fox nods, watching warily as Mace gets settled on the cushion. Only once Mace is fully situated does he sink to his knees on the cushion. After another drawn-out moment of silence, Fox removes his helmet. Depa manages to keep her wince internal, but it’s not an easy task. Fox is so very clearly exhausted and worn down, temples already going silver despite his young age and lines of stress in his face. “I am going to reach out and meet your mind with my own.” Fox tenses up, but Mace continues on as if he hadn’t seen it. “At that point, I would like you to lower your mental shields - your defenses,” he corrects, using the terminology Depa knows is more familiar to the troopers. “They do not need to go down completely, only enough to let me in. Afterwards, I must ask that you do not fight my presence. If you need to stop, please say so and I will end the meditation.” The other clones seem a little more relaxed after this explanation, but Fox is still watching Mace like he expects the man to attack him at any second.

“What will you do in my mind?” he asks suspiciously.

“I will only be looking for the Sith’s geas, although I will keep an eye out for any other Dark traces. I will _not_ be going through your memories or prying into your thoughts, and I will do my best to respect your privacy as much as I can. Is this acceptable?” Commander Fox eyes him for a minute before nodding slowly. Mace gives him a small, reassuring smile, but Fox is too caught up in his mind to notice.

Depa catches her Master’s eyes and sends him a pulse of reassurance through their bond. He gives her a grateful look before turning his attention back to Fox.

“Then let’s begin.”

Commander Fox’s mind is an island in the middle of a dreary blue-grey sea. The sky overhead is dark and waves crash against the rocky shore as Mace takes a moment to gather himself in the startlingly solid mindscape. He turns, finding the keep that should be Fox’s rigid mental shielding only to find it in complete ruins. His heart drops. Huge portions of the walls are crumbling, bashed in by waves, and rubble litters the ground. Already deeply concerned, Mace enters the keep.

He does his best to not peer into the Commander’s memories, keeping his own shields locked tight, but he still isn’t able to keep out the feeling of uneasiness hanging over the building. He’s not sure if it’s Fox’s or his own, and Mace does his best to set it aside and move forward.

The inside of the keep isn’t any better. Mace can see how Kamino’s cold, ruthless architecture merges with the stone in places, melding seamlessly in a way that would be impossible in the normal world. That’s fairly standard for mindscapes, though, and as uneasy as the pieces he sees - labs, endless white hallways, scientific equipment that Mace could never name - make him, he can’t let himself dwell on it for too long. More concerning is the tar-like shadows that seem to stick to everything, pooling in dark corners and making a chill go up Mace’s spine. They retreat whenever he tries to examine them closer, but they never stay gone for long, creeping back in and sinking into the cracks between the stones. The further Mace moves into Fox’s mind, the thicker the shadows get, and the more ominous this all feels.

The Kaminoan architecture is just starting to phase out when Mace finds the first hole. He can’t help the sharp inhale he lets out at that, feels Depa worry down their bond and Fox’s uneasiness spiking, but he sends out a wave of calm to them both as he steps forward to examine the hole.

It’s a flawless circle, the edges seared and singed black but still perfectly smooth, as if that part of the wall had simply _disappeared_. The emptiness to it is unsettling. Mace has never seen anything quite like it, a part of someone’s mindscape just - surgically removed like that. Mace spreads his mind out a little more and finds dozens of holes just like this one, varying wildly in size but all the exact same in appearance. He goes over to each one, wishing he could soothe the burnt edges, but Fox is uneasy enough as it is with Mace just looking around in his mind.

Strangely, the burns seem to vary as he discovers more and more of them, going from what looks like an initiate’s clumsy lightsabre work to an expertly done cauterization, and it sits poorly in Mace’s stomach. He knows that it’s the Commander’s work - the holes are all the same unnatural precision, it’s only the dark burns staining the stone that differ. No one should have to deal with such a thing, but for it to have happened so much that Commander Fox had found a process to deal with it? Mace doesn’t like it in the slightest. 

Eventually, Mace has to stop going to every hole he feels because there’s simply _too many_ of them, and it’s not what Mace is here to do, no matter how much he wishes he could help. He carefully makes his way further into Fox’s mind and the world only seems to get more ominous, shadows darkening with every step, and even the more intact walls are cracked and damaged. Pools of seawater cover ruined floors, algae growing in the spaces between the stones and giving it a sickly green tint. A deep sense of resignation seems to hang in the air, underlined by fear and determination, but Mace pushes through it and moves deeper.

And then he sees it. Solid doors are bound with heavy iron chain that seems to have a faint red glow about it, barring Mace from seeing the room beyond. Not all of the doors in the hallway have the chains - some are simply solid durasteel, distinctly more modern than the others - but at the end of the hall, two massive doors sit, glowing ominous red as chains criss-cross its unforgiving surface. Mace exhales heavily as he realizes he’s finally reached the depths of Fox’s mind, where he keeps his deepest secrets locked away and protected. And now, in some cruel irony, the Sith Lord is keeping the Commander’s words hostage, turning what should have been a fortress into a prison locking him in. Perhaps Mace is being a bit dramatic, but after going through the gallery of wounds that is Fox’s mind, he’s not particularly inclined to be generous.

As he cautiously approaches the bound doors, Mace notices that the eerie shadows throughout the keep seem to be spilling out from beneath them, spreading out as they move further away from the room. Mace feels goosebumps rise on his skin, even though the Council room is rather warm.

Mace is no expert on Sith workings, but it quickly becomes apparent, upon looking on the chains, that freeing Fox from the Sith’s geas will be no easy task. The Sith Lord is skilled in the cruelty they wreak, the geas carefully crafted and masterfully layered. It’s a small miracle that the Commander hadn’t been killed when he’d accidentally activated the geas in the past. Something about that thought makes the Force pull slightly, like there’s something important there, but Mace carefully sets the thought aside to meditate on later as he pulls back from Fox’s mind.

He stops, for a moment, at Fox’s outermost shields. They appear as a stone wall around the keep, solid despite the ivy crawling on it and wearing it away - it may not be quite as sturdy as a clone who works with Jedi regularly might have, but it’s still about the level of shielding Mace has come to expect in clone troopers. Considering how battered the keep in, it’s a little odd that the wall is so intact, and Mace has a suspicion. In a corner of Fox’s mind that Mace nearly overlooks, he finds exactly what he was expecting to see - a back entrance. It’s clearly not of Fox’s make, the style much like the double doors Mace had seen inside rather. It blends in remarkably well, the environment and the Sith’s subtle misdirection making it hard to spot, but the wall is smashed in around it, as if the gate had been forced into place, and the grass around it is withered and dead. On the other side of it, a pathway of perilously sharp rocks leads directly to the gate in a way that’s a little too precise to be accidental. A deceptively simple lock is attached to the gate, but Mace doesn’t try to prod at it. There’s the same faint glow around it that the chains did, although it’s harder to see in the light, and the last thing Mace wants to do is accidentally tip the Sith off that they’re onto him. Mace grimaces and takes a step back, exiting Fox’s mind entirely.

Fox’s whole body sags with relief as Mace returns to his own body. Immediately Commander Thorn is at his side, the other commanders radiating concern and worry into the Force while Fox just bleeds exhaustion, his shields still partially down like he’s too tired to shore himself up. Mace’s own head throbs and he raises a hand to rub his temples.

“Master?” Depa says, concerned. Mace waves her off.

“I’m alright.” His head hurts, but it’s manageable. He’ll need some painkillers soon, but he can make do.

“Well?” Master Poof says impatiently. Mace sighs.

“It’s definitely the Sith Lord’s doing,” he says, feeling tiredness of his own creep in. “The geas is powerful and very thorough, and breaking it will require extreme care.” Mace pauses. “That said, there are some other things I noticed.” Fox tenses up, completely ignoring Thorn to stare at Mace. Mace meets his gaze calmly as he speaks. “First of all, the Sith has done considerable damage to Commander Fox’s mind outside of the geas, and it is my recommendation that he visits a Mind Healer.” Fox blinks, radiating quiet bafflement. He doesn’t seem surprised, just… confused. “Secondly, the Sith Lord has had access to Commander Fox since the beginning of the war.” Alarmed murmurs break out amongst the Council, but Fox doesn’t even react. At his side, a raw sound escapes Thorn as he holds his brother tighter.

“The whole time?” Thorn’s voice cracks. “This has been going on the _whole time_?” Fox frowns and opens his mouth to say something, but there’s a Dark pulse in the Force and all he lets out is a wheeze. Thorn’s attention snaps back to him as he frets over Fox anxiously, distress leaking out from his own steady shields.

“There’s definitely more we need to ask you, Commander Fox,” Mace says, as gently as he can. “But it need not be now. You have been through a great deal recently, and the Council needs to discuss a plan of action. If you would like, you could go to the Healers and see what steps are needed to terminate your pregnancy, although I would like to ask that you not wander the halls alone.” Fox just stares at him, a confusing turmoil of emotions coming off of him. 

“You would-” he seems at a loss for words, and Mace’s heart aches. Ponds has told him about his brothers, about clever Fox and wild Kote, and it hurts to see just how much war has changed them.

“We would never take away someone’s autonomy like that,” Obi-Wan says smoothly, although Mace has known him long enough to see that he’s still very thoroughly rattled. “And as the Jedi are responsible for the clones, it is our duty to ensure that you receive adequate medical care.” Commander Fox is still so heartbreakingly confused, and Mace can see Aayla’s lekku curling in sorrow as she puts a steadying hand on her Commander’s shoulder.

“But… You would just let me do it? Just like that?” he asks cautiously.

“Of course. The Healers will know more about the specifics, but it is your body and we respect your decisions about it.” Force, _all_ the clones feel surprised at that, a bit of happiness mingling in from Bly and Rex and an overwhelming wave of relief coming off of Thorn. Not for the first time, Mace curses the Kaminoans for everything they’ve done to these men.

“Come on _vod_ ,” Thorn murmurs to Fox softly. “Let’s go comm Tooka and see about visiting the Healers’.” Fox looks slightly dazed but allows Thorn to pull him to his feet, wordlessly taking his helmet when Thorn hands it back to him and sliding it on. Thorn signs something to Bly too quickly for Mace to catch, but Aayla’s Commander nods and the two Guard members start to leave.

“Padawan Dune should be outside the chambers if you would like a guide,” Depa offers. Fox can’t quite hide his flinch at her voice, but Thorn dips his head in her direction in a mimicry of a bow. He, at least, has regained enough of his composure that he sounds normal for all that he’s still a storm in the Force.

“Thank you, sir. We’ll be sure to take that into consideration.” Perfect, bland, and the exact kind of neutral one hears from politicians who don’t mean a word they say. Nobody comments on it, though, and just lets them leave.

As soon as the door shuts behind the pair, the room erupts into thinly-contained chaos. Mace’s head is pounding now and he drops back into his chair heavily. This is going to be a long, _long_ meeting.

Tooka almost doesn’t hear their comm over the sound of the scanner beeping. It’s been going off for the past five minutes and Carrion still hasn’t figured out what the issue is. They’re _this close_ to throttling him when the comm goes off. They pause. It goes off again. “Don’t think this means I’m letting you off easy,” they say empathetically, jabbing their finger in Carrion’s chest. He just arches a brow, looking faintly amused, and Tooka huffs but goes and grabs their comm, disappearing into their office.

It’s from Thorn. Anxiety twists in their chest. Kriff, something better not have happened to Fox. Thorn had reassured them that he had things well in hand when Tooka had dropped by last night, but Thorn is one man-

**Thorn (CC-1599):** the jedi healers are going to help w/ fox’s situation but they want you to come by and talk medicine

Their jaw drops. Thorn is a pretty casual typer, but he’s usually a little more composed than this, which means he’s just as rattled as they are. The Jedi are going to _help_ ? Scratch that, since when were the Jedi getting involved at _all_?!

Tooka doesn’t bother to send a message back, just starts gathering up their kit and grabs a pad with Fox’s medical records. Carrion straightens up when he sees them exit the office, looking concerned.

“I’m going to the Jedi Temple,” they say brusquely before Carrion can speak. He blinks. “No clue when I’ll be back, so you’re playing supervisor again. If you cannibalize any more of my machines while I’m gone you will regret it.” Carrion looks a little taken aback but nods. Tooka doesn’t wait for more before they’re heading to the Medbay doors, mentally composing a lecture for Thorn on _not leaving them out of the kriffing loop_ as they walk.

They only start to feel nervous again when they’re standing in front of the Jedi Temple. It feels like they’re trespassing on sacred ground as they step inside, and even the sight of _vode_ lingering in the entryway doesn’t quite shake the sensation. They shake their head, shoving everything down to process later, and briskly head in the direction of Thorn’s comm.

Tooka doesn’t quite burst into the _Jetii_ medbay, but it’s close. Fox jumps at the sound, relaxing minutely when he recognizes Tooka. Thorn exhales heavily in relief as they join the other two Guards, and Tooka shoots him a poisonous look.

“I would appreciate it if somebody could _explain_ ,” they say tersely, and Thorn winces.

“Sorry Tooka,” he says, only half apologetic. “I’ll fill you in later, but all you need to know right now is that the Jedi are all good and they’re all onboard with Fox terminating the pregnancy.” The Mon Cala Healer nods.

“Yes, we’ll do our absolute best to help. I’m Bant Eerin by the way,” she tacks on. “She/her.” Tooka eyes her for a moment before nodding sharply.

“Tooka. They/them.” She smiles at them before guiding them into a more private room. “I brought Fox’s medical records with me,” they say bluntly. “Including everything after we found out about the pregnancy. It’s on a datapad with no connection to the ‘net so all the files are secure.” Eerin nods, pulling up a ‘pad of her own as Thorn and Fox awkwardly sit on the table that really isn’t big enough for two genetically engineered men, both of their helmets sitting by the door.

“While I don’t have experience with the process myself, Healer Che gave me a list of possible areas of concern and the basics to cover, so we can start there.” Fox is squeezing Thorn’s hand tight enough that it’s making the man wince, but for the first time in what seems like forever, Tooka can see a bit of hope in his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprise! it didn't take three weeks to update this time!
> 
> the transitions in this ch are kinda sharp but i enjoyed writing fox's mindscape so im happy


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this ch is pretty heavy emotionally, so heads up about that  
> warnings: internalized victim blaming, discussed abortion, referenced rape/non-con, fox's general kind of fucked-up headspace

He’s almost free. Fox can’t tear his eyes away from his still-flat stomach, one hand hovering over it. He knows he shouldn’t get his hopes up, knows that this has been  _ too easy _ when everything in Fox’s life he’s had to claw and fight for himself, but it’s so tempting to just give in and believe, just for a moment, that things are going to turn out okay. That there’s a world where the Jedi will defeat the Chancellor, the war will be ended, and Fox’s brothers will finally come home instead of dying by the thousands. But this isn’t that world, and so Fox does not let himself think about it. If he gets his hopes up, it’ll just hurt all the more when the Chancellor destroys it all right in front of him.

“Hey,” Thorn says softly, touching his shoulder. Fox wants to feel frustrated about how much everybody is coddling him, but he’s just… so tired. Fox leans into Thorn and lets his brother wrap an arm around his shoulders. Fox is suddenly hit with the realization that he doesn’t remember the last time he really touched a brother without the plastoid of their armor in the way. He casts his mind back, but comes up short. His armor has become such a part of him since they landed on Coruscant, a familiar comfort despite everything it had failed to protect him from. He rarely takes it off for anything except sleep, and even then he has a bad habit of falling asleep in it at his desk. “Fox,” Thorn says, more firmly. Fox blinks and finds his brother looking over at him with concern written all over his face. “There you are,” Thorn exhales with relief as Fox looks back at him. “I was getting worried.”

“I’ve been here the whole time,” Fox says, half irritated. There’s something in Thorn’s eyes as he purses his lips, but Fox can’t quite put his finger on it.

“Your body might have been, vod, but you weren’t.” Thorn’s voice is soft and sad, and Fox is too tired to figure out why. He closes his eyes and rests his head on Thorn’s shoulder, but sleep eludes him. There’s just too much going on in his head for him to relax, and he’s not tired enough to just pass out from exhaustion quite yet. Fox tries to let his mind wander, but it just keeps circling back to the situation at hand.

He never could have imagined this outcome when he’d entered the Council room what felt like hours earlier. He’d thought the Jedi would listen to General Secura, try and pick apart Fox’s story for any sign of deception or falsehood, but… they hadn’t. There had been some skeptics, but they had overall just  _ accepted _ what Fox had told them, and even offered him their medical services. He’d thought it was just for show at first - the Chancellor liked to do that, to say one thing and do another - but then they had had one of their cadets actually take them to the  _ Jetti _ Medbay and start actually treating him, and… And Fox doesn’t know what to do.

Truthfully, he can’t believe he’s even gotten this far. It feels like he should have already been struck down or silenced, just another casualty in this farce of a war. Fox drops his head into his hands, ignoring Thorn’s concerned noise. Kriff, the  _ war _ . Fox had been thinking about how bad it was for the GAR to have a Sith Lord so high up, but it was more than that, wasn’t it? The Chancellor has been playing both sides of the war this whole time - either that or Dooku’s master is yet  _ another _ Sith Lord they have to be worrying about, and Fox honestly isn’t sure which one would be worse.

...No, he does, he just doesn’t want to admit it. If this whole thing has been planned since the very beginning, then this is a stepping stone for something bigger, and Fox’s brothers’ deaths are just incidental in the grand scheme of things. He hates it, hates the idea that his brothers have been out there dying for  _ nothing _ , that the very foundation that they stood on has been made of lies. It makes him wonder, what if he had said something sooner - General Secura had found the geas easily enough, after all, surely a Jedi would have been able to detect it if Fox had asked them to look. How many brothers could have been saved if Fox hadn’t clung to his tattered pride and kept his mouth shut? How many more brothers would have died if his pregnancy hadn’t forced him to reveal the information? He swallows hard.

The Chancellor’s worst gifts had always been cruelty wrapped with just enough silver lining to make you wonder if it was worth it. Something practical enough, useful enough, for you to be grateful for it, but irrevocably tarnished by his stained hands, the sins he’d done with them seeping into it. Fox’s stomach twists every time he uses the vibroknife stowed in his boot, but it’s too good of a quality for him to waste when his men’s lives are on the line. He’d never be able to forgive himself if one of them died because a lesser blade wasn’t able to cut it. Fox didn’t want this pregnancy, had  _ never  _ wanted this pregnancy, but it was also impossible to deny that it had led to monumental revelations, revelations that could change the course of the war and save billions of lives. Did that make it, make this whole parade of suffering, worth it?

Fox doesn’t let himself answer the question. He refuses to cry in the Jedi Temple, to show weakness when any one of these people could incapacitate him just as easily as the Chancellor had. He doesn’t really  _ think _ that they would, but… the Chancellor is a very good actor. Fox has learned not to trust appearances - not to trust  _ period _ , if he’s being honest with himself.

Without his armor, in a building full of people who could flatten him with just their mind, it’s hard not to feel uneasy. Fox’s skin itches, the feeling of  _ exposed, vulnerable, weak _ filling his head and grating across his nerves as he forces down the instinct to hide, to protect himself. Thorn helps with that, at least - he’s solid and reassuringly present at Fox’s side, still fully armored and paced between Fox himself and the door. He still doesn’t feel like he’s actually in the Temple, keeps expecting to wake up at any second and find out that it was all in his head, but it keeps not happening. Fox has never been given this level of care with no favors owed in return, and that, more than anything, leaves him feeling critically exposed. He’s just waiting for the ball to drop, for the Chancellor to come in, for his throat to close up again,  _ anything _ . Anything so that he didn’t have to keep seeing a hopeful future so close that he could reach out and touch it.

“Masters, there’s one more thing I want to bring to the Council’s attention.” Rex looks over at his General in surprise. Anakin has been remarkably silent this entire meeting, only answering a few questions directed to him but mostly just watching everything play out. It’s a very un-Anakin like behavior and Rex has every intention of asking him about it later - it’s one of the times he really wishes the Jedi wore armor, just for the sheer practicality of private comm channels.

“Speak, you should, Knight Skywalker.” Anakin nods and takes a step forward, face uncharacteristically serious. The Council straightens up, although General Windu’s face is still half-twisted into a grimace as he rubs his temples.

“While we’ve established that Commander Fox was not raped by a Jedi, the investigation uncovered a trooper who  _ was _ .” That makes the Council break out in murmurs, General Kenobi’s face pinched tightly with stress. Anakin takes a deep breath. “One of the members of Torrent’s Alpha squad, after being read in on the situation, went to the Guard’s CMO to confess that he too had been assaulted by a Jedi.”

“Did he provide a name?” General Mundi asks with a frown. “If there’s some kind of Force ability blocking…” he trails off as Anakin shakes his head.

“He gave us a name, Masters. Pong Krell.” General Ti inhales sharply and General Kenobi looks very, very exhausted.

“A serious accusation, this is,” Yoda remarks mildly. Anakin bristles, and Rex steps forward before Anakin can put his foot in his mouth and derail this whole conversation.

“Sirs, Dogma is very well-known for being unable to lie,” Rex interjects. “He also said that it happened on Kamino - there may be some security footage to verify elements of his story.” General Ti lets out a purely Togruta snarl and a few members of the Council look at her in shock, as does Anakin.

“This happened on  _ Kamino _ ?!” her voice is biting and Rex is suddenly very glad he’s never gotten on Ahsoka’s bad side.

“Yes, sir. Dogma said it was right after their graduation, when they were waiting to be deployed.” The Council looks horrified at this revelation.

“He was a shiny?” General Kenobi asks, looking incredibly concerned. Rex nods. “Oh, Force,” the man murmurs, shoulders slumping in defeat. Several of the other Councilors look pale.

“Apparently, Krell saw Dogma completing a sim and ordered Dogma to accompany him for the rest of the day. For the most part it was about the same as being a training assistant, right up until…” the words catch in Rex’s throat and he swallows hard. “Until he pulled Dogma aside that evening.”

“Do you have a record of Trooper Dogma’s testimony?” General Ti asks, looking calmer but no less murderous. Rex nods sharply.

“Yes, sir. I’ll make sure that it gets sent to you.” She smiles at him, and it’s all teeth.

“Thank you, Captain.”

“Of course, sir,” Rex says, feeling only a little bit awkward.

“Well,” General Windu says. “I think it’s clear that Master Krell should be brought under inquiry for the time being.” That gets sounds of approval from almost the entire council, and General Windu continues. “Master Kenobi, I believe you are the closest to Master Krell’s current posting?” General Kenobi straightens up, looking a bit taken aback.

“I believe we’re a few star systems apart, yes,” he says after a moment. Windu nods once, short and decisive.

“Kenobi, you’re going to go take custody of Krell. You have the best chance of either convincing him or, if he reacts poorly, subduing him. Afterwards, we may also need you to take command of his battalion until you can be relieved.”

“What about the situation on Riogola? Will my men go there without me?”

“On Riogola, Master Unduli is. Take care of your men, she shall. However, bring with you a company, you should.” General Kenobi nods, a pensive look on his face. His mind is clearly already whirring as he goes to work on the issue he’s been presented with. For a moment Rex wishes he could chuckle with Cody about the look on the Jedi’s face, but Rex can’t really find it within himself to be amused right now.

“Alright, Masters. I’ll reroute myself and Ghost company to the Kiriinth system immediately.” Something in General Windu’s demeanor seems to relax some at the other Jedi’s agreement. “Are there any more matters we need to discuss? I should inform my men as soon as possible so that they have time to adjust their plans.” Everyone looks to Anakin and Rex. Rex resists the urge to shift behind Anakin, but Anakin just shakes his head.

“No, Masters, I have nothing further to say.”

“Then concluded, this meeting is.”

Fox is still in the Jedi Medbay when people start to trickle in. First comes Bly and General Secura, who kindly excuses herself to give them a moment together. The door barely has time to shut behind her before Bly is throwing his helmet off and wrapping Fox up in a crushing hug. For once, he can’t mistake the touch for anything but a  _ vod _ ’s - the plastoid digs into his body uncomfortably, hard and unyielding, but it’s a familiar comfort all the same. Fox tries to relax and awkwardly pats Bly’s back as his brother cries into his shoulder. Thorn’s face is getting more and more amused as he watches Fox’s fumbling, and while his heart clearly isn’t in it, at least he’s smiling. Smiles have always suited Thorn well.

Finally, Bly pulls back, sniffling and wiping his eyes. Fox sighs. He grabs a tissue box and hands it to Bly, who takes it gratefully and gives him a watery smile.

“How’d the rest of the meeting go?” Thorn asks as Bly attempts to wrangle himself into something a little more composed.

“Alright, I guess.” Fox rolls his eyes and kicks Bly in the shin. He taught Bly how to report better than that. Bly hisses and gives him a dirty look, although he only looks as threatening as a wet tooka kitten. “It was mostly just filling in details, I guess? Lots of details. I think they still want to talk to you two, and probably Tooka, but they got as much information as they could from Rex’s side of things.” Fox nods slowly, not sure how to feel about that. “Aayla and I left at that point, but I know they were in there for a while longer.”

“You left early?” Fox says, disapprovingly. Bly rolls his eyes.

“Honestly we should have left even earlier than that, I just wanted to stick around so I could get the whole story and not make you have to tell it.” Fox is… actually pretty touched by that. He’s sick of talking about it. If Bly has to hear the dirty truth - and he does, because Bly is also a nosy, busybody mother tooka - then at least he doesn’t need to hear it from Fox’s mouth. Fox won’t have to see Bly’s reaction, like how his face had crumpled back in the office-

Fox cuts himself off. He doesn’t want to think about that.

“How have things been going here? Did you already see a Healer?” Bly asks, looking Fox over as if he expects to see something different.

“A few,” Fox confirms, inclining his head. Bly gets that stubborn look on his face that means he wants real answers and won’t budge ‘til he gets them, and Fox groans. Of all the personality traits to rub off on his little brother, he really wished it hadn’t been that one. “Yes, I’ve seen a healer,” he says tiredly. “There were some questions and a few scans, but Tooka brought all my records so that smoothed things out immensely.” Bly nods slowly.

“And what about…?” he trails off, not quite able to form the words. Fox’s mouth twists, but it’s not as bitter as it might have been yesterday. Knowing what he does about his brother, how he wants the kind of perfect family that you see in holos with a  _ riduur _ and kids, he can’t really find it within himself to blame Bly for not being able to say it. Bly is soft-hearted, and if he were in Fox’s boots Fox has little doubt that things would be playing out very differently right now. And maybe Fox would feel like he’s wasting an opportunity that his brothers would have died for - and he does, a little bit - but it makes his stomach curdle at the thought of the Chancellor’s genetics out there in the galaxy, and he has no regrets about stopping another Palpatine from coming into the world.

“Healer Che said that I can have the abortion tomorrow. She could have done it today, but she said I was too stressed out and needed to eat some before she did it.” Fox still wishes that he could have argued that statement, but, well… even he could recognize that he hadn’t been eating well lately. Despite what Thorn and Tooka seemed to believe, he  _ did _ actually have some self-awareness. “She’s a lot like  _ vode _ medics,” Fox adds, because it seems relevant. He might not have much experience with civilian healthcare, but he’s gotten the impression that they want their medics to be approachable and kind. Fox doesn’t like that. Che, thankfully, is just as brisk and no-nonsense as any Kamino-born medic, and it’s a similarity that’s oddly grounding in such a foreign environment. Bly exhales heavily, relief flickering across his face.

“That’s good,” he says, smiling at Fox and squeezing his hand. “Are you going to be staying in the temple?” Fox grimaces and Thorn jumps in to answer.

“He is,” Thorn says. “The Generals said it was a good idea and I agree. You’ve been on enough protective details to know this, Fox.” Fox scowls at him. Thorn isn’t  _ wrong _ , unfortunately, but it’s more complicated than that.

“I have  _ duties _ , Thorn-” he starts, but Bly cuts him off.

“Flimsiwork can be brought here for you to work on,” he says, looking completely earnest. Fox narrows his eyes, getting the suspicion that the two of them are conspiring against him.

“My job is more than just flimsiwork,” he shoots back, a little more snippily than he really intends. Thorn’s the one who refutes him this time.

“Thire is already borrowing your spare armor today, it shouldn’t be too hard to keep up the charade for a bit.” Ice-cold terror shoots down Fox’s spine.

“Absolutely not,” he snaps. He already wasn’t happy about Thire wearing his armor, but the schedule would keep him far away from the Chancellor so Fox had reluctantly allowed it. If this continued onward, though, the chances that one of them would be caught in his armor- Fox shudders at the thought. “He’ll- he’ll notice. If I’m gone, or if someone else is pretending to be me.” Fear feels sour in his throat as he swallows. Thorn and Bly exchange a look, but they’re interrupted by Healer Che poking her head in through the door, eyes narrowed.

“If you keep stressing my patient out, I  _ will _ make you leave,” she warns, jabbing a finger in their direction. Fox is relieved at her diversion, however unintentional it may have been, and he takes a moment to calm himself. Things are changing now, for better or for worse, and Fox needs to accept that he can’t keep going on as he has. He hates it, still wishes he could have kept it secret, but he’s made his bed and now he has to lie in it. “Commander Fox,” Che says and Fox snaps back to attention.

“Yes, sir?” Che makes a face at the title, but doesn’t argue it.

“There’s a Captain Rex here to see you,” she informs him. “Do you want me to let him in?” Fox’s heart still catches in his throat at the thought that Rex had gone out of his way to come check on him, but he quickly shoves the thought down. He’s getting ahead of himself. Rex probably came with his General to talk about the investigation or go over the Council meeting, and checking up on Fox is just… incidental. Healer Che’s eyes narrow and Fox realizes he hasn’t actually given her an answer. He nods stiffly. Che eyes him for a moment longer before turning on her heel, robes flaring out around her legs, and leaving.

Rex enters a minute later, carrying his helmet and looking a bit nervous as he steps into the room. He straightens up as he spots Fox, something like relief flashing over his face before he hurries over. Fox startles as he finds himself being pulled into a crushing hug. Feeling slightly bewildered, he just awkwardly pats Rex’s back and wordlessly pleads at Thorn for help. Thorn, like the  _ shabuir _ he is, just laughs at him.

Finally, Rex pulls back, although his hands don’t leave Fox’s arms. “ _ Ori’vod _ ,” he breathes out, voice thick with emotion. Fox flinches. Rex jerks back like he’s been burned and a fresh wave of guilt rises in Fox’s chest. “...Fox?” Rex asks, more hesitant this time.”

“...It’s not your fault,  _ kih’vod _ ,” Fox says tiredly, dragging a hand down his face. He’s such a kriffing idiot. It’s not Rex’s fault that Fox has been such a terrible older brother to him. “It’s just… been a while since you’ve called me that.” It’s Rex’s turn to flinch and Fox wants to slap himself. He was trying to reassure Rex, not make him feel  _ worse _ !

“Let’s save the deep emotional topics for a day where we don’t have a Jedi breathing over our shoulder about not stressing Fox out,” Thorn cuts in dryly. Fox’s shoulders slump with relief. Oh, thank kriff. Fox will have to something nice for Thorn later - it’s the least he can do when he’s put up with Fox’s mess. After a moment, Rex exhales shakily and nods.

“Alright,” Rex says. “Fives sent me an update a little while ago about what he’s been doing with the, er, ‘ _ Guardlings _ ’?” Rex squints at his comm before shrugging. “With the Guardlings today.” Dismay overtakes Fox’s features so quickly that Thorn starts cackling, and even Bly is trying to hide a snicker. Rex huffs. “What’s that expression for?” he demands, although there’s not much heat behind it.

“Your ARC trooper is going to corrupt my shinies,” Fox says, horrified at the mental image of the shinies ending up like Fives or - Manda forbid -  _ Alpha-17 _ . Fox might appreciate his  _ ori’vod _ , but he liked his shinies the way they were, thank you very much. The last thing he needs is shinies with ARC recklessness and insanity. He shudders. He can picture Blast following in Fives’ footsteps all too easily and makes a mental note to throw a more responsible role model at the kid. Thire, perhaps?

Now Rex is laughing at him too, and some of the tightness wound up in Fox’s chest since the meeting eases, just a bit. He’s forgotten how nice it is to make a brother laugh for real, for something besides the dark, bitter, battlefield humor that Fox tends to default to these days. Of course, he can’t let the others  _ know _ that, because they’ll hold it over his head until the end of time, so Fox pulls Rex into a headlock and smirks as his brother starts squawking at him.

There’s still a heaviness to Fox’s mind, to his heart, that hasn’t faded, but… it gets exhausting, dealing with that all the time. Fox is a weak man, so he lets himself indulge in this moment of happiness, clinging to it with a desperation that he doesn’t want to admit, because he knows things are just going to fall apart from here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im thinking abt writing the krell side of things (obi-wan taking krell into custody, krell's men finding out abt everything, etc) in a separate story, if ppl wld be interested in that  
> EDIT (2/17/21): Krell side story is now up! It's the next work in the series, "Whiskey Sour"
> 
> also all the planets here are just me making up names, i didn't feel like trying to trawl through wookiepedia for actual places bc i tend to just fall down a research rabbit hole and my family can only stand me talking abt inane star wars bs for so long


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: implied/referenced rape/non-con, referenced bad treatment of clones, some musings about the jedi and their role in the war
> 
> (which, to clarify; im def pro jedi. mace and depa are just looking at a lot more of the negative side of things at the moment.)

Vokara strides into her office, back straight and shoulders set. Once the doors close behind her, though, all of that drains out of her. She drops into her chair tiredly, toying with the end of a lek, a nervous habit she’d thought she’d kicked as a padawan. It’s hardly been the worst day she’s had in the Healing Halls, but something about the clone commander’s case bothers her a lot more than she’d like to admit.

Commander Fox is a kriffing disaster. Vokara resolves to never let him and Kenobi near each other lest they start coming up with new ways to ignore their health. Kenobi, at least, knows that his situation  _ isn’t _ the norm, for all that he blithely ignores that fact and carries on like nothing is wrong. Commander Fox, though… Commander Fox’s idea of normal makes Vokara want to storm into the Senate and  _ make _ them give the clones the rights they deserve, politics be damned. Commander Thorn had helpfully shown her Commander Fox’s usual schedule, much to Fox’s irritation, and Force, the man barely had the time to catch his breath in between shifts! 

That wasn’t even touching on everything else about the man. The injuries Fox had raised all kind of red flags in Vokara’s head, but Vokara is smart enough not to push her luck and question a patient so obviously tense as Fox. Still, the injuries - lightning burns, a number of wounds that had healed partially before being treated properly, damage to his trachea - painted a very worrisome picture. 

And then Fox had haltingly told her that he was pregnant and wanted an abortion. Seeing the expression on his face, feeling what emotions spilled over into the Force, the pieces had clicked together in Vokara’s head. Her heart went out to the poor man. He’d seemed genuinely confused that she was helping him - Thorn and Tooka had as well, but not to the degree that Fox was. She knows that some Healers might not agree to do the procedure, but… Vokara is a Twi’lek woman. She’s seen such things happen to so many others like her and done the best she can to pick up the pieces, but it’s an ugly galaxy out there.

Vokara sighs and flips through some of the records Fox’s medic had brought by earlier. She thinks they’re still in the Halls, having bullied some of the other Healers into letting them help while their Commander was busy in one of the examination rooms. She makes a note to compliment them on their record-keeping. It’s always hard to keep things in order when your patients don’t want to cooperate, but they had provided a fairly comprehensive record. For the most part, they match up with what Healer Eerin had provided for Vokara to look over - some fluctuations in weight, slightly different levels of hormones, all stuff that could be expected to vary on a day-to-day basis, especially with a pregnancy to take into account. Many of them are concerning, too low or too high, but they are steady.

Except… Vokara frowns. Tooka had done a midichlorian test a few times at the very beginning of Fox’s medical records, when their scanners were still probably factory default. It’s not particularly high - 2400 - but it is consistent. Eerin’s tests, though, show a different number entirely. 5600. Nearly double his original midichlorian count. Now  _ that _ is  _ definitely _ not normal.

Thire waits patiently for this Senator to finish yelling at him, grateful for the chrono in Fox’s HUD counting down until the end of the meeting. He’s going to have to copy some of Fox’s settings when he gets back to the barracks and his own armor - the setup is great for Senate duty and field work, streamlined but with all the important parts easily accessible. There’s some stuff that wouldn’t be as useful for Thire - Fox has a lot more meetings to keep track of, for one, but Thire appreciates the layout nonetheless. It’s certainly more interesting than the Senator, at the very least (not that that’s too hard to accomplish, if he’s being honest).

Thire actually isn’t sure what this Senator is mad about, but it seems to be a whole lot of nothing. Fox had it marked as low importance, which generally means ‘stand here and let them yell themselves out for a while’. Fun. And people wonder why Fox is such a killjoy. Thire would be annoyed at stupid shore leave antics too if he had to listen to this day after day.

He’s also starting to understand why Fox has a bottle of alcohol in his office that may or may not be some of the Force-damned moonshine that Jek and Rys definitely don’t make. No good soldier would be caught making moonshine out of a refurbished trash can, after all.

The Senator’s words start to wind down and Thire abruptly snaps back to attention, setting aside his plans of getting a bottle of his own for later. It’s exactly the same nonsense from the beginning of the rant, so Thire just nods and goes “Yes sir,” in his flatest, deadest voice. The Senator huffs but turns on his heel to flounce off.

Thire exhales heavily in relief and leans back against the wall. He’s got five minutes before he needs to see Senator Renking - and presumably pick up the latest pile of work the man has decided to dump on them - and then a measly half an hour break before he has a ‘High Priority’ meeting with Senator Amidala.

...Fox won’t mind if Thire raids some of his stash, right?

The 327th’s CMO is Corks’  _ hero _ . Corks can’t believe he actually managed to corral Tooka into doing anything  _ and _ lived to tell the tale. He hasn’t let the flow of the Medbay falter, either - filling in for Tooka when they were absent yesterday, and then taking over again today when Tooka had abruptly left out of the blue with a thunderous look on his face. Corks’ burgeoning medic senses tell him that it probably has something to do with Commander Fox, so Corks very much does not try to find out anything more about that situation.

Plus, Carrion is so  _ nice _ . Sure, Tooka is a great mentor and Corks has learned a lot from them, he really has, but their warm heart is surrounded by an awful lot of prickliness. Carrion’s is just… there. Granted, he seems to have a bad habit of messing with the machines in the Medbay, but he always stops what he’s doing when Corks or one of the other medics ask him for help!

Corks watches, a bit wistfully, as Carrion drops a scanner onto his foot when Slip manages to sneak up on him. He wants to be just like that, someday.

“Master, is something bothering you?” Depa asks, sounding concerned. Mace sighs and rubs his aching head. He wishes he could go by the Halls and get some stronger painkillers from Healer Che, but Commander Fox is still down there and Mace has dealt with enough shatterpoints today.

“...Commander Fox spends ninety-percent of his time less than two hundred miles from the Temple,” Mace says, side-stepping her question. “We frequently go to the Senate in person ourselves. And yet…”

“We missed all of this?” Depa finishes, looking down at her tea sadly. Mace nods.

“Precisely. What else could we have missed? Aayla and Skywalker both found instances of abuse amongst their men when they looked - how many more are there? How much cruelty has been perpetuated right under our noses?” Depa exhales shakily, hands tightening around her cup.

“We should look into it, Master, and encourage other Jedi to do the same. If we institute it as standard procedure, no trooper should feel singled out.” Mace nods, turning on his datapad and passing it over to Depa. She sets her tea down and takes it, looking faintly puzzled. “What is this?”

“It’s a proposal that Kenobi drafted prior to the situation being brought to the Council.” Depa blinks, looking up from the ‘pad.

“What?” Mace sighs.

“Obi-Wan was alerted to the situation at the same time as Skywalker,” he explains, appreciating that at least Obi-Wan had had the thought to send an explanation his way. “But the 212th was deployed almost immediately after.”

“So, since he couldn’t help in the investigation, he wrote this instead?” Depa surmises. She doesn’t wait for an answer. “It’s very well-written.”

“He is called the Negotiator for a reason, Padawan,” Mace says dryly. Depa shoots him a wry smile in return, but their humor fades quickly. “There are definitely some changes that need to be made to it, since we now know that Commander Fox’s assaulter isn’t actually a Jedi, but it’s a solid foundation.”

“If there was any hope of it passing in the Senate, I would suggest it be added to GAR regulations, but…” Mace snorts and hopes his bitterness isn’t leaking into the Force. Depa always says her tea tastes funny after that, and he knows she’s joking but it’s better to keep up the habit. He sets it aside to meditate on later.

“The Senate doesn’t even consider clone troopers to be sentient,” Mace says grimly. Mace tries to look over everything the Senate passes regarding the war, and he can’t say he’s been particularlty pleased. The Chancellor always insists that it will be a drain of too much resources right now, when the Republic needs them the most, but Mace hasn’t believed that Palpatine has had his heart in the right place ever since he started putting pressure on them to let him meet with Anakin. Mace knows Obi-Wan feels much the same way, although any kind of percieved critique of the man is liable to set Skywalker off. “Maybe we should have seen this sooner,” he says tiredly. “We’ve known for years that the Senate is rotten, that they have too much control over us.” Depa frowns at him.

“That’s why the Council is making plans for the Order to pull away from the Senate once the war is over, correct?” He nods. “Why  _ haven’t _ we done it sooner, master?” She asks curiously. Sometimes Mace forgets just how young she is, that she’s only been sitting on the Council for a few years.

“The Senate’s authority has always given us a fair amount of leeway to act on unjust matters, you know that,” he starts, and Depa sighs.

“I know, Master,” she says with the exhaustion of a padawan who has been told the same thing a dozen times.

“I will admit part of it is not wanting to change things so drastically,” Mace says, taking a sip of his own tea. It’s going cold. “We’ve been tied to the Republic for a thousand years, and that’s quite a lot of tradition to break.” He knows Depa won’t be satisfied with that, though, so he heats up his tea cup and continues. “Another reason is that we have gotten much, much smaller than the Jedi used to be, and our numbers have only been declining further. The thirteen-year age limit-” Depa scoffs. “-was originally put in place to help funnel more Jedi into the Service Corps. We rely on the Senate for a lot more than we would like, but they do their best to make it hard for us to regain any of that autonomy.”

“I’ve always known it was something like that,” Depa admits, swirling the dregs of her tea in the cup. “But I’ve never heard it put into words like that.” Mace sighs, finishing off his own cup.

“The Council doesn’t want to acknowledge it, because that would mean confronting how the Senate has warped the Order’s intent of helping others into something much darker.” Depa sighs and gracefully rises to her feet, bringing both her and Mace’s teacups into the small kitchen.

“...The galaxy is already so dark,” Depa says quietly as she rejoins him. “It’s hard to realize that your actions might have made it darker.” Mace nods, sending reassurance to her through the Force.

“I believe things will change soon,” he tells her. “For better or for worse, I don’t yet know, but it  _ will _ change.”

“I hope so,” Depa murmurs, looking out the window. Mace doesn’t need the Force to know that she’s thinking about her Commander and Padawan. “They deserve so much better than  _ this _ .” Mace bows his head and prays.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Krell side-fic is now up! It's the next work in this series, "whiskey sour"
> 
> \--
> 
> Unfortunately, I live in Texas and things kinda suck rn. It's not as bad as it could be, since I still have water and power, but it isn't particularly great for any long-form projects of mine like this one. I'll probably be working more on my other fics for a bit, but I'll take requests/prompts for this universe to work on until things warm up. I might do some unrelated ones if people are interested. You can leave 'em here or throw them into my tumblr, whatever works for you.
> 
> That got kinda serious, so let me just say I hope everyone's doing well in these tough times, and I appreciate each and every one of you who has read this fic and stuck with me all the way to this point <3

**Author's Note:**

> yall can hit me up at zaethiopica on tumblr if you want!!


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